


Slip & Slide

by SheWritesDirty



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Barebacking, Billy smells like the ocean (aka cum its canon), Blindfolds, Body Worship, Bondage, Brief TommyxCarolxBilly, Conflict, Deepthroating, Derogatory Language, Donna Summer, Edging, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Jealousy, Lack of Communication, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Pegging, Photographer Steve Harrington, Pizza Flirting, Pornstar Billy Hargrove, Power Bottom, SO MUCH SEX LIKE THIS ENTIRE FIC IS SEX, Sex Toys, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, Vibrators, Voyeurism, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 53,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheWritesDirty/pseuds/SheWritesDirty
Summary: Steve’s a photographer for a sleazy gossip magazine - one notorious for stirring up the juiciest drama, right in the middle of Hollyweird. Except he’s constantly getting saddled with the worst of theworstjobs… until his boss decides to give him an actual chance. Sending him off to take shots at a multimillionaires ridiculous party - some guy who pretty much saw himself as the new Hugh Hefner.And all was going well, until infamous pornstar Billy ‘Hurricane’ Hargrove emptied at least half a bottle of champagne straight onto himandhis camera.Luckily for everyone involved, Billy has just the way to make it up to him...
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 198
Kudos: 351





	1. Point & Click

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say... Other than this was a damn trip to write.
> 
> Edit: 03/02/2021 -
> 
> I went through and cleaned this up (again) because OHHHH MAN. It was messy. I'll probably do it with the rest of the chapters too.

Steve was a serious photographer. At least that's what he kept telling himself, as he stood there surrounded by an entire room full of pornstars currently doing their best to… promote their _talents_.

It wasn’t exactly the job he wanted, but it was better than taking photos of Mrs. Turner's vegetable garden— and that one, strange cabbage that kind of looked like the face of their current first lady. He’d always been the one to get the shit jobs, and all things considered… working some trashy million dollar playboys after party was actually a step _up_.

Still, he was clearly out of his element. He felt distinctly uncomfortable photographing both the men and women who had no concept of shame. Of course, it _was_ their job. Steve wasn’t exactly up on the industry… but he’d done his research, he knew the names of stars. Knew enough about them to where, when he actually _spoke_ to someone they gave him this surprised look… Like they weren’t used to people actually knowing more information about them then the biggest dildo they’d been able to take.

“So, you actually donate a lot of your money to big cat rescues— and I was just wondering if you could comment on that…” He was saying, as a curvy blonde woman eyed him up and down. She was wearing _something_ , but it didn’t leave a lot to the imagination.

“You’re kidding, right?” She asked, pulling down the tiny pair of pink tinted glasses that she had perched on her nose and peering over them. “You don’t wanna ask me, like... my cup size?”

“Well, if you want to— uh, disclose that… that’s fine.” Steve replied, pushing his own glasses back up. As if the way those pink shades were almost falling off her nose, somehow made Steve feel like his own might be in danger of the same. “I just think it’s really interesting that you're so passionate about something like that…”

“Yeah well, I just really love _pussy_.” She said, lifting one of her legs up until it was completely parallel with her body, giving Steve a complete view of… well… everything.

“Oh.” Steve said, raising his camera to take a photo. “Thanks.” She just shrugged at that, wandered off to find someone else to talk to.

He wasn’t exactly _supposed_ to be interviewing them anyway… Just meant to be snapping a few photos of the extravagant, over sexed lifestyle of a man with enough money to hire an entire Hollywood mansion full of strippers and pornstars— and then have the gall to invite the press in, just so they could snap it up like dogs.

Not that it wasn’t mutually beneficial.

People in L.A. operated under the one universal rule... _any_ publicity is good publicity. And most of them would give anything to be splashed over the front cover of a gossip magazine the next morning. Then of course, there were the few who didn’t care about getting noticed… the ones who’d truly just come for a good time.

And as Steve had quickly come to learn, at the center of every good time… was Billy 'Hurricane' Hargrove.

Dancing on a table, completely shirtless and wearing only the tightest booty shorts Steve had ever seen... paired with nothing else but _socks_... like he just didn’t give a shit, which was pretty true to his reputation.

Steve went up with the intention of getting a photograph and slinking out of there as soon as he was done, because he was fully aware that his boss was going to be livid if he somehow managed to miss getting a shot of the most infamous person here… _besides_ the guy throwing the party himself.

But right as Steve got into position, camera posed, someone tossed a bottle of champagne up to Billy... and he didn't hesitate to shake it up, popping the cork and spraying the entire crowd of onlookers with foamy bubbles— _including_ Steve— before upending the rest of the bottle over himself when he was done.

Billy caught the look on Steve’s face, his thick blonde lashes dripping with over-priced Champagne as he zeroed in... blinked a little at the expression of horror as Steve tried to wipe his camera clean with a sopping shirt that was honestly doing more harm than good at this point.

“Oh fuck." Billy said, a short pause and... for a inkling of a second, Steve thought he was actually a little contrite. "Sorry baby...” But then a slick grin spread onto his face and Steve realized he was just another asshole... which he should have expected, he knew enough from tabloids what this guy was supposed to be like.

Steve just stuttered some useless thing out, like; ‘It’s fine…’ when it fucking _wasn’t_. He turned on his heel and hurried to the nearest bathroom to try and salvage what he could from his camera.

“Seriously… this is _just_ my damn luck.” Steve muttered, trying to wipe his expensive camera dry. And it was _brand new_ , too… but after a few minutes of attempting to clean it he eventually came to accept that the camera was probably just unfix-able at this point. But he could at least get the film out before it turned into a sticky mess.

He flicked off the lights in the bathroom and set to opening up the back panel, fishing the reel out and trying to wipe it down… only to have the door fly open, light from the hall flooding in and ruining the entire thing.

“ _No!_ Close the damn—!” Steve managed to get half of his sentence out, before he realized it was already too late… he stared down at the useless bit of film in his palm. “Oh shit… oh shit— oh _fuck!_ ” He hadn’t even bothered to look at who had just destroyed his entire life... he was definitely going to get fired over this.

Steve had spent nearly half a year convincing his boss he deserved a chance at something _better,_ only to fuck it up this bad.

“Relax, they were already ruined.” A casual, silky smooth voice purred from behind him… and finally Steve’s eyes snapped up to catch the face of Billy staring back at him in the mirror. The very man who was responsible for this tragedy in the first place.

“Don’t tell me to relax, you have no idea how badly this screws me over!” Steve shouted, turning around to jab a sharp finger straight into the glistening, perfectly tanned chest of one of the most infamous pornstars in all of the industry.

Not exactly the guy you wanted to get on the bad side of… Steve had heard plenty of stories about how he ended peoples careers, over much smaller things than what Steve was doing now. But it wasn’t like it mattered, because Steve's career was already over… All that pissing Billy 'Hurricane' Hargrove off would do, was sharpen the knife already set to plunge into his neck.

Billy seemed shocked, his face taking on this indignant expression… like he couldn’t _believe_ someone like Steve had just talked back to him... he glanced down at the finger pressing into his chest, before his eyes slowly slid back up to lock with Steve’s— danger reflected in them, heat and fire and _challenged pride_.

His hand flew up to grab Steve’s fingers, shoved them back— but he didn’t let go, either. Instead Billy just crowded into Steve’s space until his lower back was pressing uncomfortably into the sink behind him.

“Don’t _touch_ me.” Billy warned... warm breath puffing into Steve's face, his grip tightening. And Steve had no doubt in his mind that this guy could mess him up... he figured Billy had a whole lot of practice putting handsy jerks (who were far more intimidating than what Steve’s slim frame inspired) into their place.

So Steve just swallowed, nodding.

“Good boy.” Billy breathed out, his expression immediately melting away into something far more agreeable. Releasing Steve’s hand only to pat his cheek in a way that was most certainly condescending. “I _am_ sorry about your camera…” He went on, but that smile was still lingering there and... It didn't seem like he meant it this time, either.

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve grit out, trying to wiggle his way out from between the sink and the firm, muscular body that was slowly encroaching on his space.

“Oh, but I _do_ worry!” Billy enthused, his voice carrying a heavy mocking tone with it. Billy followed right behind Steve as he finally freed himself, nearly knocking him into the bathtub— grabbing onto his shirt and steadying him instead. “Wouldn’t want you to get into trouble because of little old me.” He finished, a comically fake frown plastered on his face.

“What do you want?” Steve finally asked, figuring it would be better to just get this over with… so he could maybe hurry back to his car to try and turn up his backup camera, maybe he could still get a couple shots before the night was finished.

“Oh no, pretty boy.” Billy said, smiling again. “This is about what _you_ want.”

“I already accepted your apology… we’re square.” Steve insisted, trying not to focus on the time and how it was quickly slipping out of his hands.

“Or, you could just shoot me.” Billy said, shrugging a little— like he really didn’t care either way. Like he offered this sort of thing all the time, which… once again, Steve did his research. One on one time with Billy was not something that was easy to come by.

“You mean like… you’d invite me onto a set?” Steve asked, which was basically nothing… he would be just another thirsty fucker trying to get stills from some porno shoot. It was pointless, and certainly wouldn’t pay his bills when he lost his job.

“ _So-lo._ ” Billy corrected, tongue rolling off the roof of his mouth as he spoke slowly. And that was about when Steve caught onto the fact that he was _definitely_ being screwed with… that this whole thing was probably a joke, one that was either some fucked up manifestation of Billy’s own boredom— or the shared boredom between him and some others waiting behind the scenes to hear all about how sad and gullible and _pathetic_ Steve was.

“I don’t think—” Steve started to say, only to get cut off before he could finish.

“Clearly.” Billy snapped at him. And Steve just groaned, his frustration hitting its peak as he tried to shove his way out of Billy’s space, only for the guy to roll his eyes and release Steve like he’d never tried to keep him from leaving in the first place.

His eyes were trained on Steve the whole time, as he moved towards the exit and pulled the door open.

“Yeah, okay..." Steve mumbled, refusing to rise to the bait that Billy's anger clearly was. "Thanks for the offer, but I’m gonna have to pass.”

Then he was shoving his way out of the bathroom, making his way back into the smoke heavy air of the party. He hurried out to his car, desperately searching through the pile of crap in his backseat… only to realize he hadn’t even _brought_ the spare camera with him tonight— it was probably sitting at home on his counter, just waiting for him.

This whole night had turned out so fucked... he nearly cried with how frustrated he was, how overwhelming the defeat felt. He sat there for a moment longer, trying to play out the excuse in his head... 

‘Sorry boss, lost the footage because Billy 'Hurricane' Hargrove sprayed me with an entire bottle of champagne…’

A story stupid enough, to not only affect his job now… but probably his chances of working for anyone else in the industry, too. He drove home in silence, the events of the night playing over on repeat in his head...

* * *

Getting fired sucked.

Spending an entire week trying to find a _new_ job, and getting turned away every time, sucked even worse. It felt a little like he’d been blacklisted, which prompted him to remind himself that he probably wasn’t even important enough to get blacklisted anyway. He was even considering applying to some fast food joint, but he couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

He hated working those shit jobs while he was putting himself through college— which he'd had to do, because his parents didn’t approve of his direction in life. They just wanted him to take over the family company... Art was a ‘waste of time’, and even though Steve hadn’t taken a photo that could be called as ‘art’ in over two years…

They _still_ had a problem with his work. So it wasn’t like he could reach out to them for help either…

He woke up that morning at the edge of his rope, ready to pour through local listings for help wanted. About half way through the list of restaurants that were currently taking on new servers, he got a phone call. He idly stretched out to snatch his cellphone from the kitchen table and answered.

“Steve Harrington, freelance photography.” He announced, because it made him sound a bit less like an unemployed piece of shit… and a lot more like he was doing this because he had _integrity_.

“Yes, I’m calling on behalf of Billy Hargrove— I’m his agent.” A short, clipped feminine voice responded. Steve sat up quickly in his chair, suddenly paying far more attention to the call.

“Oh.” He said, chewing at his bottom lip. A nervous habit, one he’d tried to kick.

“I’ve spent the last three days trying to find your ass, and honestly. I could have been doing any _number_ of far more useful things…” She sighed out, “But Billy _insisted_ that I find you, and set up an appointment for you to have a one-on-one photo shoot with him.”

“Um… I wasn’t—” Steve started to say, but she cut him off quickly.

“Billy Hargrove is extremely professional and he will not stand for you flaking out of a business arrangement…” Steve just blinked a little, like somehow this guy had actually convinced himself that _Steve_ was the one acting inappropriately here… “I hear you have quite a bit of free time lately… So I’m sure you have no problem with working around Billy’s schedule.”

“Okay…” Steve found himself saying, because really… He hadn’t done a proper photo shoot since he’d been fired, and he was getting kind of desperate— and maybe it wasn’t like Billy was going to _pay_ him… but he could use the photos to liven up his portfolio, and Billy Hargrove’s name had a lot of sway in the right circles.

Besides, if he could get a foot in the door… porn shoots paid well. And, it wasn’t like he could upset his parents any _more_ at this point.

“Alright great, then I’m going to pencil you in for Friday..." She rattled off an address, some fancy high rise apartment in downtown L.A. that Steve couldn’t even _fathom_ earning enough money to rent, and he scrambled for a pen and paper to write it all down on.

“By the way… Steve _Harrington_.” She finally said, voice full of warning. “I don’t know why my client is trying to set this up with you, but if you think you can get away with any sort of funny business… I can ruin you worse than you can even imagine. So I suggest you show up, convince Billy that whatever debt he has seemed to conjure up is paid in full… and that you never attempt to contact, or try to use my client to further your… _miserable_ career.”

With that she hung up, and Steve just sat there… feeling rather blindsided by her suddenly venomous tone.

“What the hell did I just get myself into…?” Steve muttered, nervously shuffling through the newspaper again... circling a wanted ad for a small, local ice cream place.

* * *

“I thought maybe I could shoot some new promotional material for you.” Steve said casually, leaning over the ice cream counter as the manager gave him a skeptical look.

“The wanted ad was for _wait staff…_ ” He said, clearly unamused.

“Well… yes— and I can do that. But if you needed someone to shoot some promotional material for you...” Steve was hurrying to explain, only to have the guy groan and toss a uniform into Steve’s hands.

“You’re hired, just so long as you never talk to me about photography again.”

…Which was fine, Steve made his peace with it. Sort of. The uniform was ridiculous, a little blue sailor outfit… had this mandatory hat that liked to flatten his hair in all the wrong ways. His coworker was equally horrified to be working alongside him, and they quickly bonded over that.

And, as it turns out, serving ice cream right in the middle of Hollyweird to entitled tourists was a highly demanding job… He came home exhausted after work, and actually managed to forget about his appointment with the infamous... and apparently _pushy_ , Billy 'Hurricane' Hargrove.

He forgot about it so completely, that come Friday... he _still_ didn’t remember— that morning he woke up late and frazzled, having to rush to get to his job at the ice cream place on time... and spent the rest of the day trying to play catch-up.

Steve was just holding on for the end of the day... when he could go home and fall into bed and close his eyes— and maybe pretend like his life was somehow going the opposite direction as it was now. By the time he was closing up alongside Robin, all he could think of was 'soft', 'pillow', and 'nap'.

Then his phone rang in his pocket, and he fished it out… answering with an exasperated tone.

“Steve Harrington, professional ice cream slinger.” He snapped into the receiver.

“I really don’t care _what_ you are— my client has just informed me that you’re late.” A tense voice replied, and Steve swore under his breath.

“Robin!” He shouted, holding his hand over the voice piece. “Can you close up the rest of the way, I forgot I have this… this thing.”

Robin just rolled her eyes and told him he owed her. And Steve turned back to his phone with the intention to tell the lady on the other end he was on his way... only to find he'd already been hung up on.

He gave Robin a thumbs up before dashing out of the ice cream shop and sliding into the front seat of his car. He keyed the engine on and then... sat there for a moment as it purred to life, his blood running cold. He’d been so late to work this morning that he’d just gone in his uniform… and he hadn't even bothered with bringing a change of clothes.

Which was when he realized he was actually about to show up at some expensive high-rise apartment building in a _sailor outfit_.

That, or spend another thirty minutes driving home through traffic… And being even more late somehow seemed worse than showing up in his uniform. At least he had his camera and all his gear with him, the fuck up that ended his career had fear-conditioned him into never going anywhere without it.

Steve showed up to the high-rise only twenty minutes late, gear in hand... and stood in front of a doorman who wasn't about to let his ass in.

“A sailor.” The doorman said, eying him up and down.

“I’m a photographer…” Steve corrected, gritting his teeth and holding up his equipment— as if that somehow sold the story, despite his outfit.

“I think you have the wrong address.” The doorman said, frowning. And Steve just groaned in frustration... he was about to give up entirely, when a voice drifted over to them.

“Harrington?” He peered over the bulky shoulder of the door man to spot a woman eying him somewhat curiously from inside.

“Yes!” Steve replied hopefully, "And I’m here for—" He'd started to try and explain when she held up a hand to cut him off.

“He’s fine, Benny.” She said, and the doorman grumbled... but he did step aside for Steve to enter the building. “Follow me.”

Steve kept hot on her heels as she led him to a set of elevators, watched her thin, manicured finger press for the twenty sixth floor… they ended up standing in silence as the elevator took them up. He shifted uncomfortably and got the feeling that even if he tried to strike up small talk with this woman, she would pretend he hadn't.

Thankfully, the doors swung open right as Steve was starting to get fidgety…

“Good luck.” She announced as Steve stepped out, the doors already closing before he could thank her— or ask why the hell she thought he needed _luck_.

He couldn't help but wonder if he was about to get murdered or something, and tried not to think about the fact that he hadn't actually told anyone where he was going. Still, he was already here so... he stepped up to apartment number 263. The same numbers Billy's agent had given him earlier on the phone.

He knocked… waited… and _nothing_. He tried the handle on a whim, only for the door swung right open. Which seemed... unsafe. Did this guy not worry about random people strolling into his apartment...? Steve stepped carefully inside and looked around. The place was massive, mostly empty in that... 'I have so much money I don't even bother buying furniture', kind of way. There was a ridiculous circular bed in the middle of what _should_ have been a living room… like it was the centerpiece.

There were several things scattered about the floor around it… lacy underthings, a strap on that appeared to be missing its attachment, condoms that Steve was pretty sure were _used_.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to clean up after last night...” Billy’s voice sounded from the loft above, fading off as he started down the stairs and took in Steve’s appearance. “And here I was, thinking that _I'd_ be the one getting into costume today.” Billy finished, smirking.

“I didn’t have time to change after work." Steve said, not quite able to keep the bitter tone in his voice under wraps. "You know, cause I lost my _actual_ job… and now I peddle ice cream.” Billy just threw his head back and _laughed_.

Steve had humiliated and debased himself plenty of times in his life, but something about this moment just felt like rock bottom.

“Well… I don’t think I'm going to be able to take you seriously while you’re dressed like that.” Billy admitted, when he'd finally managed to stop laughing. Which seemed pretty unfair, considering Billy didn’t have anything on besides some blue, satin shorts and an oversized, faux-fur overcoat. “I’m sure there’s something in the loft you can use.” He offered, stepping out of the way of the stairs and ushering Steve up with a wave of his hand.

Steve unloaded his equipment bags before nervously shuffling past Billy and ascending the stairs… into something that appeared to be more of an _actual_ bedroom… and less of an, extravagant bed in the center of a mostly empty room.

There was a dresser tucked into a corner of the loft and Steve quickly opened it, fishing out a shirt and a pair of trousers that he could actually see himself pulling off. Most of Billy’s clothes were… a bit outlandish for him.

Still, he was mildly curious what Billy’s reaction would have been if he went back down stairs in the fishnet crop top he’d uncovered while looking for a normal shirt. But he figured staying professional would probably benefit him more than trying to fuck with someone whose entire life's work was… fucking _better_.

By the time he was heading back downstairs (His fingers carefully doing up the small tortoise shell buttons on a shirt that probably cost more than anything Steve even owned) Billy was already laid out over the bed in the center of the room, knees spread apart... propped up on an elbow, and watching as Steve flushed and averted his eyes. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was about to shoot this guy naked, if he couldn’t even look at that bulge pressing up against those garish, blue shorts.

Steve pushed that thought out of his head and went to his gear instead, setting his uniform down before unzipping the bags and finding his camera… he fiddled with the lenses for a moment, before picking the one that would serve him best for the occasion. It was his old, slightly more 'well-loved' camera— he hadn’t had much money or chance to replace the one that Billy 'Hurricane' Hargrove had ruined yet.

Still, he knew how to work the thing… and it was trusty, it had gotten him through college just fine.

By the time he turned back around, Billy had a hand in his shorts and was palming himself. Steve startled a little, almost fumbling his camera— _almost_ suffering another casualty to the guy.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, willing his voice not to crack.

“You want me floppy for this shit?” Billy asked, sneering a little… but stilling his hand all the same. 

“Just…” Steve waved his camera at Billy, who frowned and pulled his hand out of his shorts. “Lose the coat, too.”

Billy rolled his eyes and shrugged out of it, tossing it over the edge of the bed. Steve spent a few moments gauging the way the sunlight streamed in through the massive windows… circling around the bed until he’d gotten that light shining right off Billy’s skin.

“Do what you’d naturally do.” Steve suggested, crouching down a bit and staring at Billy through the viewfinder.

“I’d _naturally_ … have my hand in my pants.” Billy replied, smiling sharply and showing his teeth. “Unless you’d like to volunteer as my fluffer today.” Steve was under absolutely no assumption that Billy was being serious... that the guy wouldn’t break his fingers, if he so much as _tiptoed_ over a boundary.

“Fine, go ahead.” Steve acquiesced. And Billy just frowned at that, before stuffing his hand unceremoniously back down his shorts. Steve pulled a chair over, spun it around and sat in it... observing Billy as he worked himself over. “Not gonna lie, usually when I was shooting nudes it was more… for the artistry of things.” Steve said casually, his eye drawn to the thin drip of sweat rolling down Billy’s chest.

“It’ll go faster if you shut up.” Billy bit back, snarling a little. But despite what he'd said, it took only a few minutes before Billy's face pinched up, and his lips previously pursed in concentration parted to speak again. “...You tryna' say what I do isn’t art?” Steve recognized it for the obvious bait that it was.

“I didn’t say that… I’ve just never shot any actual _porn_ before.” Steve finally said, flushing a little as Billy shoved his shorts down to get a better grip on himself.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make your first time good.” Billy said, locking eyes with Steve and hooding his lids… sucking his lower lip between his teeth and biting down.

Practiced, _effective_. Steve shifted again in his chair, willing himself not to get aroused already… he knew it was probably going to happen at some point. Because Billy Hargrove was painfully attractive, and Steve had a healthy interest in other men.

Still, he could stay professional… even if his dick wasn’t on board with that. Steve pulled his camera back up, like maybe the separation through the viewfinder would help him detach himself. It was kind of annoying him, that Billy just seemed to be putting on an act… like this was just another porno shoot, and the faster he got it over with the better.

Steve sighed, dropping the camera again and furrowing his brow. Billy seemed offended, and he abruptly stopped stroking himself. He looked half way hard, and Steve wondered how long it took him to get ready when he was filming a scene…

“What the hell’s your problem?!” Billy snapped, defensive.

“I wanna try something different… Just, why don’t you just pose for me. Forget the uh… that.” Steve managed to say, flushing again as he got an eye full of Billy’s half-mast cock.

“Generally it’s the focus.” Billy explained, like he thought Steve might be a little stupid.

“Okay but, try something different. Let’s draw the focus to…” And Steve was up, out of his chair and circling around to the edge of the bed, Billy looked halfway ready to punch Steve right in the face if he deemed it necessary.

“Your tattoo.” Steve said, standing there and evaluating Billy from a somewhat safe distance.

“My fuckin’ tattoo…?” Billy asked, still staring like Steve was stupid. “Half the time they have me cover the damn thing up…” he was saying, more to himself than to Steve.

“Okay, but just… bring it this way, towards the light.” Steve suggested, making a beckoning motion with his fingers. Billy shifted in the bed, light hitting his shoulder and bringing the tattoo out against his skin... his knees bending as he sunk onto the bed, silk sheets pooling around him. “Perfect, hold there.” Steve pulled back again and watched through the viewfinder... moving until he found the perfect angle, dropping down and snapping a single shot.

“Look away.” Steve commanded, and Billy’s nose wrinkled like he was considering just ignoring it.

“Face is the money maker… besides my dick.” Billy grumbled, finally turning his head away despite his complaining. Steve took several more photos before dropping the camera and chewing at his lip in thought.

“You seem… stiff.” Steve said, like somehow his own nervous energy over this entire thing had infected someone as comfortable with being exposed as Billy Hargrove.

“Usually have something in my ass, by this point.” Billy just fired back, lip curling into a sneer. “Loosens me up real good.”

Steve just shook his head and raised the camera up to take another shot...

“What about you? You’re _tense,_ pretty boy.” Billy said, leaning forward a bit… crawling on his hands and knees to the edge of the bed.

“I just… this is really unusual for me.” Steve explained. Billy just laughed, launching himself up and out of the bed. It startled Steve, had him stepping back and— nearly tripping over his own feet as he watched Billy walked over to Steve’s stuff and start rummaging through… “Hey!” Steve started to protest, but then Billy was strolling back over with the little sailor hat from Steve’s uniform clutched in his hand.

He settled onto the bed again and flipped it up onto his head, struck a pose with a devilish grin. “What?” Billy asked when Steve’s lip curled up into a smile.

“Nothing… you actually make that work.” Steve commented, taking a photo of Billy. He effortlessly melted into a second pose, and Steve took another.

“Yeah babe, I make everything work.” Billy breathed, his voice sultry.

“If I'm being honest... I didn’t think _anyone_ could make that uniform look good.” Steve murmured, immediately picturing Billy in the rest of it… had to shake his head to clear the thought.

“I should show up, pretend to be you… I’d sell so much fucking ice cream.” Billy said with a cocky grin, tongue sweeping out over his top lip. He was back to oozing confidence and sex appeal now— any evidence that he might have been uncomfortable completely washed away.

“I think they’d figure it out… I mean you definitely won't pass for me.” Steve said, laughing.

“Come here.” Billy said, his eyes sharp and laser focused on Steve.

Steve hesitated for a second before taking a step closer... and Billy just rolled his eyes before motioning for Steve to get even _closer_. As soon as Steve was to the edge of the bed, Billy snatched the glasses straight from his face… slid them on.

Steve just blinked, watching as Billy squinted into the frames…

“Damn, you blind?” Billy asked, idly discarding the sailor hat over the edge of the bed.

“Not exactly… I need them for distance though.” Steve said, leaning in enough to get a good look at Billy. “I’m gonna need you to stop making my things look better on you.”

“What can I say?” Billy shrugged, his smile almost appearing genuine for the first time since Steve had met him. So the guy liked compliments, Steve could work with that. Everyone knew Billy Hargrove was full of himself— and if stroking that ego got Steve some good shots… well he had no problem with that.

Steve pulled his camera back up and snapped a few more... and Billy took the glasses down from his face, sticking his tongue out… letting the ear piece rest against it, pressing down just enough to leave a little indent in his tongue when he pulled them away.

Steve snapped another shot, a flush creeping up the collar of his shirt.

Billy held them out, and Steve hurried forwards to accept them... there was saliva coating the plastic, and he wiped the end off on his shirt-sleeve before slipping them back onto his face.

“Lay back.” Steve asked, and Billy just rolled his eyes before flopping back into the sheets. Steve carefully planted his foot on the edge of the bed and used it to steady himself as he leaned over to get the shot. Billy glanced at it, before looking up straight into the camera… defiant.

He took the photo, and Billy slid his hand down his chest… shoved those stupid shorts out of the way, and slowly wrapped his hand around his still half-hard cock. His other hand drifted up to catch his own nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it sharply and _twisting_. His eyes flew shut and he hissed through clenched teeth, back arching into it.

And Steve found himself regretting his research for the first time, regretting that he knew just how much Billy liked a little pain with his pleasure.

He forced himself to stay focused, to think only of the shot… not to think of the way Billy seemed to be getting into it now— the way his pupils dilated and tongue swept out to wet his lower lip… the way his cock finally swelled in his hand. Billy had continued to abuse his nipple, and it looked flushed, sore… standing stiff when he moved to the next.

Steve took several photos from different angles, and nearly fell off the edge of the bed in an attempt to catch Billy from a particularly tricky one.

Billy chuckled as Steve caught himself. “Why don’t you go pick something over there…” he said, nodding his head in the direction of a medium sized table with… an entire _array_ of sex toys spread out over it.

“The hell am I supposed to pick…” Steve asked, wandering over... glancing back at Billy. He was stroking himself slowly now, almost like it was more of a mindless thing— like he was far more interested in watching Steve.

“Whatever you want.” Billy answered, grinning. Steve let loose a sigh, resigned to how entirely unhelpful Billy was going to be. Most of the things on the table… Steve didn’t even know what they _were._ He honestly would have been afraid to put half of them to use on his own body.

Steve let his hand run over a couple toys, a small metal vibrator, some rubber spiked cock ring that had his balls pulling back into himself... then laid his hand on a sizable neon pink dildo and pulled it up, raising a brow as he looked back to Billy.

“Well fuck, princess… not the type to start small, huh?” Billy asked, licking his lips.

“Come on…” Steve said with a laugh, “You don’t seriously use this thing, do you?” He’d grabbed it more as a joke than anything else, it must have been at least eight inches… he really hadn’t expected Billy to rise to the challenge.

“Bring it.” Billy snarled, like it was a matter of his pride at this point. Steve wandered to the edge of the bed and Billy’s fingers brushed Steve’s skin as he snatched it out of his hand. “Lube.” Billy demanded, and Steve searched the room for a moment before he found a bottle sitting on the floor next to a pair of panties.

He tossed it to Billy who caught it straight out of the air, making the whole thing look effortless. Then he was turning over in bed until he was resting on his chest and knees, his ass up in the air and on perfect display. He coated his fingers in lube, before swinging an arm back around and pressing them into his hole… wasting no time really, pumping them in and out quick and efficient.

“Do you even enjoy sex, anymore?” Steve asked, settling back into his chair and crossing his legs… as if that might somehow hide his obvious erection.

“ _Fuck_ _yeah_ , I love sex…” Billy said, pressing his ass back onto his fingers and moaning as if that sold the point. “You think I could do this if I didn’t?”

“Well, I just thought making it your job might sort of… ruin it.” Excess lube was running out of Billy, dripping down his balls and along his cock… Steve tried very hard not to follow it with his eyes.

“Taking photos ruined for you?” Billy shot back, stuffing another finger into his ass and stretching it wide. Holding it open for Steve who stared for a full five seconds before he remembered his job here and lifted his camera to take the shot.

“No... fair point.” Steve muttered, trying to remember to focus on what Billy was saying, like that somehow might get his libido under control.

Billy withdrew his hand, and Steve watched in awe as his rim clenched around nothing... like it was mourning the loss of something filling it. Billy slicked the dildo up with lube, before pressing the broad tip of it to his entrance— Steve quickly got back up, circling around to the side of the bed where he could see Billy’s face… catching his expression as the dildo slid in, the way Billy’s brow furrowed with the effort, the way his mouth went a little slack.

The expression was captured forever on Steve’s film reel. And he knew he was gonna have to revisit that one... and determinedly ignored how unprofessional that train of thought was. A little trickle of saliva was running out of the corner of Billy's mouth, darkening the silk sheets that were bunching under his parted lips. He still had his face twisted to the side, as if to make sure Steve didn't miss anything.

Billy's hand worked the dildo in and out with careful, practiced movements… rotating it and shoving in deeper each time, pausing for a moment as his chest heaved… like he was _pacing_ himself.

“You okay?” Steve asked, pulling the camera away from his face, looking concerned.

Billy actually laughed at that, full bellied… he _shook_ with it, and pressed his face into the pillow so Steve couldn’t see the embarrassed flush that followed. “Fuckin’ fantastic, pretty boy.” He mumbled into the sheets. He started driving the dildo in again— faster now, like it was a matter of pride.

He uncovered his face again to shoot a defiant, fiery look at Steve as soon as he had his composure back. Like he was _daring_ Steve to try and knock him off his game like that again, but Steve’s eyes were drawn to the way the dildo pushed deeper— nearly buried to the hilt now, as Billy rocked his ass back onto it.

“Holy shit.” Steve said, forgetting again… that he was meant to be photographing this, totally entranced by the way Billy’s hole stretched wide to accommodate the toy. Pink and raw... slick with lube, sucking it in like he was _made_ to be filled like this.

And Steve was really beginning to catch on to what was so damn special about Billy Hargrove. Shook himself out of it, brought the camera back up— got back to work. Got in closer, his knees hitting at the edge of the mattress… he made a little sound of frustration at the way it halted him, and he leaned in. One hand splayed out over the sheets, ignoring the way the mattress sunk with the weight of him.

Steve knew he was getting too close, but he had to for the angle he wanted… he was practically climbing onto the bed with Billy, trying to get his face and ass on a single frame. Billy’s thighs were trembling as he pumped the dildo in and out of himself, excess lube pushing out at the edges and slicking all down his thighs.

“Tell me something about you...” Billy gasped out, in between hitched breaths as he angled the dildo just right to hit his prostate. Steve wondered if it was normal for Billy to get this into it... he wondered if the guy always talked this much, too.

“Well…” Steve started, peering up over the edge of his camera for a moment… before ducking back down to the viewfinder. “My parents don’t much approve of my photography.”

Billy just laughed, before thrusting the dildo into himself in one sharp, rough movement moaning and rocking forwards with the impact. Steve started to wonder how inappropriate it might be to switch to video… “I’m sure they would approve of this then.” Billy went on, his raw, fucked out voice shaking Steve out of that thought.

“I should send them copies when I’m done… they’d probably have a heart attack.” Steve said, dropping the camera again, his signature goofy smile spreading over his features— the one that usually only came out when he was around friends. Billy just groaned and buried his face into the sheets under him, pressed the dildo in _deep_ and ground his hips back into it. “Hey, wait—” Steve suddenly choked out, catching the way Billy’s body tensed… the way his muscles seized up.

“Your face, show me — _dammit!_ ” Steve knew better than to lay hands on a model, but Billy was about to o-face straight into the fucking mattress… and hell if Steve was letting that picture slide out of his fingers.

So he threw caution to the wind and got his hands right on Billy’s chest, flipped him with ease onto his back. He ignored the gasp of shock from Billy, settled in between his legs… hovered over him, the perfect angle. A single hand resting on Billy’s thigh, like he needed it for purchase— and Billy locked eyes with the camera.

He came like that... untouched, writhing on his back just enough to nudge the dildo against his prostate. Lips falling open around a long, drawn out moan. Cum spurting out over his abdomen, muscles spasming with it. And Steve didn’t miss a second of it, clicking away... capturing all of it on film.

“The fuck… you think... you’re doing?” Billy demanded as soon as he was finished, in-between gasped breaths, chest heaving— dripping with sweat and his own cum.

“S-sorry.” Steve stammered out, already moving to pull back. But Billy’s hands tangled into his shirt, pulled him roughly forward and easily flipped their positions. Steve's head spun a little with it, and then he clued into the fact that Billy was straddling him now— anchoring him down onto the bed.

Billy was heavy, solid. He was stronger than Steve was, and clearly had no problem overpowering him. Steve braced for something… a fist to the face, probably. He’d heard plenty of stories about Billy Hargrove getting into fights… not so many about him losing.

But he wasn’t prepared for an open palm pressing firmly against the bulge in his pants… Steve sucked in a sharp breath at the touch, his head thrown back into the impossibly soft mattress beneath them. Then Billy’s hands were fumbling with the front of his jeans, unbuttoning… unzipping. With none of the finesse Steve expected from someone whose job pretty much had them doing it on a daily basis.

Steve swallowed and tried to work his throat… tried to conjure up some words that would help make sense of the situation… only to choke them back down as Billy took him in hand. Billy locked eyes with him, shining with a fire... like he’d suddenly just found his rightful place— with his hand wrapped firm around Steve’s painfully hard cock. He slid it up and down tortuously slow, flicking the wrist in a twist as he rounded up to the tip.

And really, it was entirely unprofessional. Steve wasn’t supposed to be falling apart under his subject— moaning like he was desperate for it… but here he was, eyes glassy and unfocused, bucking his hips up into Billy’s fist.

Billy suddenly pulled his hand away, and Steve _whined_ … flushed with humiliation at how damn needy it sounded. Not that he had much time to dwell on it, because then Billy was lifting himself up on those strong thighs… positioning himself over Steve’s swollen cock and sinking down.

And thoughts like… _condoms_ , and the fact that Billy Hargrove had probably slept with a million fucking people filtered in through his head, only to drift right back out… Because Billy was still so slick with lube, fucked loose from the dildo— and he took all of Steve's sizable cock so _easily_.

He couldn’t read Billy’s expression at all... couldn't make out the difference between lust and concern, a grin splitting his face that cold have just as well been a grimace. And Steve knew it was because the both of them understood... that this shouldn't have been happening, that they were crossing a line.

Still, Billy moaned as he settled all the way down, his ass pressing flush with Steve’s thighs… and he rocked his hips, grinding down into Steve’s lap like he wanted it even _deeper_ — like it was never enough. His hands planted heavily on Steve's chest, suddenly pulling at the buttons of his borrowed shirt... pulling to tear them open when he got impatient, then he threaded his fingers through the hair on Steve's chest and _pulled_.

Steve groaned, arching his back into it… his breath hitching as Billy road him. And it was... too fucking good, the way Billy's hole squeezed around Steve's cock, the way he put the effort in to make himself tight— like he wanted it to be good for Steve. It threw him, left Steve feeling a little dizzy... Watching in awe as Billy lifted himself up on shaky thighs, only to drop back down again, and again.

It was kind of beautiful, the way Billy's face slowly slackened... like the drag of Steve's cock was working all the hard edges out of him, smoothing him out... for just that moment, like nothing mattered.

And the sounds Billy was making were just... like he'd never had it better. Like Steve was the end all be all of cocks, and yeah... some small voice in the back of his head was reminding him that it was Billy's _job_ to sound like every fuck was the best fuck he'd ever had... but it was just too easy to lose himself in the pitchy, breathy moans filtering up from deep in Billy's chest.

So Steve brought his hands up to grip harshly at Billy’s thighs, his fingers digging in— like he needed to hold on. Billy locked eyes with him, peering down through hooded lids, thick blonde lashes fanning over blown out pupils. He pressed his ass down hard, grinding his hips in slow, deliberate circles. His muscles tightening, squeezing around Steve’s cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

Steve came with a desperate moan, his hips bucking up into Billy… the heat of his own release making everything even better, as he thrust in time with each spurt of cum— the thought of filling Billy like that sparking something possessive in him. And then he was spent, and he flopped back against the bed... tried to catch his breath, tried to catch his _brain_.

The thing that had completely left his body the moment Billy touched him... it was just barely making its return as he watched Billy finish.

Steve watched him wrap a hand around his cock and stroke it quickly, those baby blue eyes screwing shut as he rocked himself back and forth on Steve’s softening cock. Billy came with a grunt, an impressive load shooting out over Steve’s chest— considering the guy had barely any time to recover since the last one.

And fuck if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen.

Billy hung his head as he caught his breath… lifting himself up and letting Steve's spent cock flop out. Billy's hole was already leaking... and Steve watched a little transfixed as his cum rolled down the inside of Billy's thighs.

"Guess that's why they call you Hurricane... I think you just rocked my—" Steve started to say, only to be cut off.

“Out.” Billy demanded, his voice heavy and raw.

And Steve just lay there for a moment, baffled— because he already _was_ out. Then Billy looked up, fire and hatred in his eyes... then he was grabbing Steve by the chest hair which, really was a terrifying and painful experience, and shoving him up and out of the bed.

“ _Shit—_ watch it!” Steve cried, and Billy just shoved him again. He nearly toppled over, but he recovered enough to quickly stuff himself back into his pants and try to zip up.

“OUT!” Billy repeated, yelling... storming towards Steve’s stuff and grabbing it— pulling it roughly towards the door, before opening it and tossing them out.

“Wait-wait a second. Okay, _fuck—_ calm down!” Steve stammered out. “That's fragile!” He grabbed the rest of the equipment before Billy could get his hands on it, and let the guy shove him the rest of the way out of the apartment. Steve turned to say something, only to have the door slammed right in his face.

He just stood there for a moment, the pants he’d failed to actually button sliding back down around his thighs. Because they were just a little too big, because they weren’t even _his_ pants.

Steve pulled them up, zipped them properly… buttoned them too, because yeah… he probably should have done that in the first place. He made his way back to the elevator with all his shit in tow, feeling very glad that Billy hadn’t managed to get his hands on the camera…

He wondered if it was okay to try and use a porn star's photographs in your portfolio after fucking them… or having _been_ fucked by them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, wondering if I should make this a chapter fic???
> 
>  **Thank you for reading!** As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (as is any feedback) — if you liked this work, you can reblog it from [**right here**](https://shewritesdirty.tumblr.com/post/623290986139893760/slip-slide)~


	2. Processing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I wanna just say here, to everyone who spoke out on my behalf - and to everyone who simply showed their appreciation for this fic, in whatever way you chose (both comments and kudos) Thank you very, VERY much 💖💖💖 (You all give me life)
> 
> [The Naked Photographer](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCUcaft-3hNIuB1L1IgARPoQ) helped me to not be a complete moron (hopefully) about photography stuff, while also being extremely entertaining. Check a boy out.
> 
> This chapter features Tommy and Carol as a bitchy double teaming pornstar duo - and I fucking love them…

Steve had a tiny developing space in his apartment, a walk-in-pantry-turned-dark-room… most of his groceries were scattered over his kitchen counters because of it, but it was well worth the sacrifice. Because this was his one place where he felt truly at home, perched upon a bar stool and hunched over a tupperware tub full of water, rinsing the chemicals from his latest shots.

Shots of _Billy_... shots that quickly had him feeling hot under the collar.

It was a lot harder to stay professional after he’d had Billy sweating over him, after he’d had that silky, tight _heat_ all around him… bringing him right to the edge. Not that he didn’t feel guilty for letting things get out of hand. He kept thinking about that look on Billy’s face, too... as he threw Steve out of his apartment.

Anger yes, but also _fear_.

It was hard to imagine how a guy like that could be scared of _anything_ , let alone someone like Steve. He was a nobody… and it wasn’t like Billy didn’t have a reputation for this sort of thing, would anyone really care if they heard about him fucking some bland, _tragically_ unsuccessful photographer?

Steve sighed and leaned back a bit, hooking the toe of his shoe around the bar stools footrest to keep from unbalancing himself... Unless Billy’s reputation wasn’t even true, he thought... and just like that he felt guilty again. He decided to try and erase it from his mind, to focus on his work.

So got back to it... moving on to clip the dripping wet photographs to the thin string he had hung between the few shelves in here. He liked this process, working with his hands had always been something that made him feel at peace.

That wasn't to say that he didn't love the moment with the camera between him and his subject, too— he lived for the feeling of freedom it gave him. The lens was like a bubble between them and the rest of the world, a connection with another person. And connections were something he struggled with when the camera was out of his hands.

But if he had to pick... he would have to say that he loved this moment of calm even more. In his dark room with a reel of film... working with them slowly, bringing everything to life again in print. Fiddling with negatives until he had the exact result he wanted, the perfect color— vibrant enough to show the same wonder that Steve saw when he looked at the world. Or the pointed lack of color, dark black on grey sharpening every edge. A contrast that brought a moody, yet beautiful feel to every shot.

Billy looked amazing in _both_ , and Steve felt his breathing catch in his chest plenty of times while pinning up a finished print. He had captured so many sides of the man, sides he hadn’t been expecting to see...

Obviously, there was Billy exposed in every way— ass in the air, dildo buried deep, stretching him wide. His face pressed into the mattress beneath him, twisted around to find Steve... eyes lidded, pupils dilated, staring straight into the camera. Steve could make out every bead of sweat on Billy’s skin, the small drool of precum that Steve had missed when he was in the moment, dripping from the swollen cock hanging heavy between strong thighs.

But then there was Billy with Steve’s stupid sailor hat flattening his gorgeous curls, smiling wide... or, really it was more like a smirk— crooked and full of arrogance. The little scrunch in his nose, eyebrows lifted, and Steve could easily remember the way they’d waggled at him. Playful, acting out as much to loosen himself up as he did to loosen _Steve_ up.

And finally, Billy simply sitting on the bed... face turned away. Steve was only just able to capture the edge of his lips turned down, his shoulder and that ridiculous skull tattoo drawing focus. The way the light made his skin glow, filtering in and casting him in golden sun. The way he was tense, appearing so much more vulnerable like this, than he did with everything on display.

It was the one that left Steve the most breathless. Had him wanting to shoot Billy again, despite the fact that he’d no doubt burned that bridge. Steve wanted him in clothes, in his everyday life. Wanted to capture him shopping for his groceries, or out for lunch... or simply walking down sunset boulevard, with the warm breeze in his hair.

Steve wanted him _natural_ , waking up in the morning with sleepy eyes and scruffy cheeks.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his face and scrubbed… he needed to come back to reality, Billy ‘Hurricane’ Hargrove — the literal pornstar— wasn’t going to want anything to do with him… especially after what had happened. And it was for the best, because Steve could _feel_ himself becoming obsessed.

He peeled latex gloves off his hands as he stood from the stool and started putting away the developing chemicals... sliding them onto shelves, rattling the glass beakers that were lined up. Doing everything with a little more force than was necessary… before he turned to look one last time at the photos hung to dry, lingering on the one of Billy right as he came.

Billy’s lips were parted wide in this one, damp with spit and stretched around the sound of a moan that still echoed in Steve’s head. Eyes just barely open, like he was desperate to keep them locked with Steve’s camera. Brow furrowed, head thrown back, curls spread out over soft silk sheets, baring his neck… his back arched, putting his chest on full display. All that perfectly tanned skin stretching out before Steve like a canvas.

And Billy painted white with his release, ropes of cum spread over his stomach and chest, some still suspended in air as the camera trapped him forever in that moment of euphoria. Steve’s ass hit the counter behind him as he leaned back, eyes trained on that photo… hand palming at the front of his jeans as his cock began to swell.

He just had to get it out of his system, and then he would be _fine_.

Steve sighed and fumbled for his zipper… eyes trained on that photo of Billy’s face trapped in ecstasy. He finally got his pants loosened enough to shove them down around his hips, to free himself. Wrapped one dry hand around the base of his shaft, and gave it a rough jerk. His eyelids fluttered as he filled the rest of the way out, easily hard with the thought of Billy… Once he _allowed_ himself it, once he stopped trying to hold himself back.

He released himself for a moment and brought his hand to his mouth, spitting in the palm before using it to slick himself up. Steve pictured Billy on top of him, that heavy weight pressing him down into the bed… riding him like his life depended on it. He really wished that in the moment he’d reached out and touched all of him, while he’d had the chance...

Wished he had traced every line of those muscles, committed every inch of them to memory… because he was never going to get another chance now. He sucked his lower lip in between his teeth and bit down hard, trying to bring his mind back from that all too dangerous, slippery slope of _feelings_. Focused instead on the pain, and the climax building in his gut as he stared at the slack-jawed bliss captured forever on Billy’s face.

Steve’s hips bucked, and he screwed his eyes shut... his hand faltering as the first spurts of cum shot out, hitting the wooden floor and dripping over his knuckles. He gave himself two final strokes, milked out the last few drops. Sighing, his knees gave in and he slid down to the ground, resting his back against the counters.

Sitting there, with his spent, limp dick in his hand…floor spattered with his own cum, after jerking off to a pornstar who will never want _anything_ to do with him... And know the fact that he was working for minimum wage in a job that didn’t use his degree, a job that left him nearly penniless, wondering how he was going to make next month's rent...

He came to the realization that he'd really hit rock bottom, now.

* * *

Steve’s boss had railed him out over losing the stupid sailor hat. Said something about how the uniform was _key_ to their image… and Steve was _jeopardizing_ that. Like it was really that serious, like selling ice cream was somehow impossible without a stupid sailor hat crushing his hair.

But there was no way in hell that Steve was gonna go to Billy’s apartment to beg for it back… he probably wouldn’t even make it past the door man, anyway.

So the boss took it out of his pay, twenty-damn-dollars for some costume shop hat. And he was stuck working the back ‘till it came in, which was just fine. Because Steve really preferred to _not_ see people right now, anyway.

Robin just laughed and laughed when he told her how the job went, she actually _cried_ a little she was laughing so hard.

“I’m never gonna work again, and look— _he_ fucked _me_ , okay?!” Steve said defensively, when Robin fell over into another fit of laughter.

“I mean…” She finally managed to say, gasping for breath. “If you gotta go out… getting fucked into destruction by Billy 'Hurricane' Hargrove…? Man, what a way to go.” She said, sighing.

“You don’t even like guys.” Steve pointed out, as if that made her opinion invalid.

“Whatever, you know you agree.” She said with a shrug, before dismissing him and telling him to go out back and get them some more Mint-Choco-Chip. Work pretty much just consisted of Steve trying to forget about everything that had happened, and Robin kindly reminding him every chance she got.

Still... Steve hurried home after closing every day and changed into something that looked slightly professional, before fixing his hair and grabbed his new souped-up portfolio— before rushing back out for the last two hours of daylight to try and get his foot in the door of… _anywhere_.

There were photos of Billy, none of the ones with him… exposed. Because Steve didn’t think he could have those in his portfolio and not pitch a tent in the middle of an interview. But the beautiful ones, the ones that showed a side of Billy that maybe people didn’t even know existed… they were there.

And that was a funny thought to Steve— that there was anything about Billy Hargrove that people hadn’t already seen.

It took two weeks of that, for a magazine to finally show it’s interest in his work… they actually wanted to run an article on him, and maybe hire him in as a photographer for some future projects. Of course, they wanted to print the photos of Billy…

Which was kind of worrying Steve, because he’d never gotten any kind of signature from Billy that expressly said he had the _rights_ to use these photos… Because it was hard to get someone to sign over anything, when they were busy tossing your equipment out the door.

But he wasn’t about to turn down the only magazine willing to give him a chance.

Besides, it was some niche artsy magazine that honestly… not that many people even read. So he felt pretty confident that it wouldn’t even get much traction, and no one was going to recognize who the subject was— not in the circle this magazine ran in.

He felt good about it, walked home with his head held high and a check in his pocket.

The magazine went into print two weeks later, and Steve excitedly queued up at a stand to get his own official copy— feeling only slightly annoyed that the magazine hadn’t just sent him one as a courtesy.

Still, not much could put a damper on his mood… that was, until he saw Billy’s photo smack dab in the middle of the racks… on the _cover_. Sitting right next to People and Time Magazine... And his brain scrambled immediately to recall if anything had been said about Billy’s photo going on the cover… because he _definitely_ would have been smart enough to say no to that.

Steve blinked a little, and pinched himself. Like this was some kind of fever dream, or more aptly, nightmare — and he was two seconds away from waking up in a cold sweat, only to chuckle about how stupid his subconscious was… But no, all that happened was a sharp pain and the dull throb as Steve’s fingers slipped away from the skin on his arm.

He quickly bought the magazine and tucked it under his arm, hurried back to his apartment. His phone was already vibrating in his back pocket. He seriously considered ‘accidentally’ dropping it into a storm drain.

Six missed calls as he stepped over the threshold to his apartment, and he nearly toppled over while toeing his shoes off— he had his phone in his hand as he scrolled through them. All the same number, one he’d never bothered to save to contacts… and yet he recognized it instantly.

Steve was startled as the call came in again, his ringtone shrill in the dead silence of his apartment. He quickly swiped up and brought it to his ear.

“Yes?” He started to ask, only to have someone immediately start talking over him.

“You have some damn _nerve_ buddy. Actually I’d be impressed— If I wasn’t completely aware of the fact that you’re actually just some _moron_ who has no idea who he is messing with.” The sharp voice of Billy’s manager filled Steve’s head, and he played with the idea of just hanging up.

“I think I should probably inform you, because you seem to be _willfully_ ignorant of this, but we have _lawyers,_ Mr. Harrington… And I’ve been on call with them all morning and I—” She broke off mid threat, and Steve could hear a muffled conversation in the background… strained his ears, trying to catch any of it.

“ _But he—_ ” She was arguing with someone, and whoever it was kept interrupting her. There was a sigh from her, followed by a groan. “Fine, no lawyers.” Steve definitely made that one out, heard it loud and clear… he wondered if she was talking to Billy right now... and his heart skipped a beat at that, he tried very hard not to read into any of the emotions swirling in his stomach.

Instead, he clung to the small glimmer of hope that maybe Billy didn’t want Steve getting sued into oblivion.

“I didn’t know they were going to use it for the cover.” Steve explained, chewing nervously at his bottom lip.

“Quiet, I’m not finished with you.” She said into the phone, her voice cutting sharp.

“Look can I— can I talk to him?” Steve asked, sighing as he leaned against the door to his apartment and deflated a little.

“Absolutely not, if you so much as _try_ to contact my client I will— _what?!_ ” She snapped suddenly, clearly talking to someone else again. Never had Steve felt like less of a participant in a phone call. “You _can’t_ be serious…” She was saying, and Steve just rolled his eyes and pressed the end call button.

He felt really good about it, too... and ignored the next two calls that came into his phone, opting instead for silencing it and going about his morning.

* * *

Working at the ice cream place, actually felt like a much needed escape for once. The distraction of dealing with demanding customers was helping to push everything else out of his mind. And he'd finally been allowed in the front of the house again, free from his banishment to the back room... seeing as how his new hat had come in a few days prior.

Robin had been giving him _looks_ all day long, because it was out of character for him to be so enthusiastic about this job. She’d asked him if he’d been alien abducted three times already, and all he replied with was; “You think the aliens would let me tell you, if I had?”

It was getting close to his break, when a familiar, blood curdling voice cut right through the pleasant numb his mind had drifted into while working.

“Can’t say I’m surprised, you fit right in here.”

 _Billy’s manager_. Steve had never seen her before… and he was kind of surprised by how sweet she looked. He'd pictured someone rigid and stiff, someone suffering from perpetual bitch-face. But she was kind of cute, curly hair piled messily on top of her head, glancing around the tacky nautical themed interior of the ice cream place like it offended her as much as it endeared her.

“Oh wow.” Steve just said, mouth falling open a little. She raised a brow at that, and scoffed.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls." She said, pausing for a second to frown at a boat shaped ice cream booth. "And really— it’s a pretty stupid move considering I’m being _very_ generous in not pursuing a lawsuit with you… I don’t need my clients approval to move forward with that, I want you to understand that.” She finished, stepping up and leaning over the counter... tapping one, long, perfect nail against the enamel surface.

Steve just nodded, swallowing back any of the protests that were slowly trying to creep up and help dig his grave deeper. Robin was peering curiously over at them from behind the big sliding window that divided the back and the front of the shop.

“Billy wants you on a shoot, and he's refusing to work if you aren't there.” She said, cutting right to the chase with a tiny frown etched onto her face. “The last thing I want is… whatever this is,” She waved her hand up and down at Steve, like he was the baffling speed bump in Billy’s otherwise flawless career. “To affect my clients work.”

“You… you’re serious? Why the _hell_ would he want me there?” Steve stammered through the question, his nose scrunching up... because he really didn’t get it.

She just stared at him, leaning over the counter and hissing out a harsh; “If _you_ don’t know, how the hell am _I_ supposed to?” She grabbed Steve’s stupid sailor-kerchief and pulled him in close. “You don’t know the hell I’ve been through these past few days— he just, _mopes_ … lies around and doesn’t want to work… and he sighs all the time, like he walks into my office and flops into a chair and _sighs_. He won't even go to parties, Harrington… Billy ‘Hurricane, _will fuck your boyfriend and you and then laugh about it while he pisses off a balcony_ ’ Hargrove will not even go to parties.”

Steve just blinked, his glasses fogging a little with her breath as she complained right into his face.

“Whatever you did to him, _un_ -do it.” She demanded, shoving Steve back. “And answer my calls, so I can tell you where the fucking shoot is... and if you don’t show up? I’ll be having my lawyer serve you.” She finished, stalking back out of the shop, the little over head bell tinkling to signal her departure.

The devil leaves on the wings of a sweet song, the contradiction had Steve’s head swimming even more than it already was.

“Who was _she_ …?” Robin breathed, leaping through the partition and getting up in Steve’s face. “Steve, how did you not tell me about her…? What is wrong with you!?”

“She… she's horrible, Robin!” Steve said, utterly baffled.

“She’s _magnificent!_ So powerful, wow… she could like, yell at me all day long… _fuck_.” Robin enthused, leaning back a bit against the counter— like she needed it to help hold her up.

“You’re… actually insane.” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Hey let’s worry about _you_ dingus... You’re about to become Billy ‘Hurricane’ Hargrove’s _whipped bitch_ , or face poverty for life…” She was grinning, like she was living for this.

Some friend she was.

* * *

Steve was almost late to the shoot, Billy’s manager's voice was ringing in his head like a warning. She’d finally introduced herself properly over the phone the last time they’d spoken, _Heather_. He barreled in through the back door to the building, bags looped around his shoulders and weighing him down... He stood in the doorway for a second, feeling entirely overwhelmed.

There was a set off in the center of what was really, just a big warehouse. Lights and backdrops set up, cameras all over the place — people scrambling around to get shit done. Which was reasonable, considering it was like… thirty minutes until filming was supposed to start.

Steve didn’t recognize anyone, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he was supposed to be doing here.

No sign of Billy either, which was a relief… because Steve had that sick feeling in his stomach all morning, unsettled by the knowledge that he was going to be seeing him again. Steve just wandered aimlessly into the room, deposited his stuff in an empty corner and tried not to get in anyone’s way.

“You’re here, great.” Heather’s voice sounded from over his shoulder, he couldn’t tell from her tone if she was actually glad he was here... or if she wished he didn’t show up at all. At this point he was getting used to her just, always sounding angry— always sounding frazzled. He supposed working every day with someone like Billy ‘Hurricane’ Hargrove probably did that to you.

“Guilty.” Steve said, putting on his fakest ‘I’m-feeling-very-confident’ smile.

“Not yet, I’ll see what I can do though.” She said, with what almost looked like a genuine smile… _weird_. “Come on, I want you to meet the other photographer… you two will be fighting for the perfect stills.”

“And just… don’t get in the way of the film crew, or I will _actually_ kill you.” She warned, grabbing Steve’s arm and leading him over to a guy with tired eyes, ones that were nearly obscured by the shaggy bangs hanging over them. He was leaning over his own gear, fiddling with a camera that Steve couldn’t even afford in his _dreams_.

“Jonathan, meet Steve— your new partner.” Heather announced, hands on her hips as she impatiently waited for ‘Jonathan’ to finish switching out lenses. He glanced up when he was done, bangs shifting slightly out of his face.

“I thought I was shooting this one alone…” Jonathan muttered, giving Steve a once over. He tried not to look as nervous as he felt.

“Well, you’re _both_ shooting it now.” She said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t make this an issue, I’ve had enough crap to deal with for one day without you two assholes adding to it.” And with that she was stalking off, and Jonathan was shaking his head... offering a reluctant hand to Steve.

They shook on it.

It wasn’t like it was either of their faults that any of this was happening— and it seemed like maybe Jonathan was used to things being thrown for a loop based on the whims of one of the industry's most unpredictable stars.

“First time?” Jonathan asked, his head dropping back down as he rummaged through one of his bags.

“Is it that obvious?” Steve asked, laughing nervously.

“Yep, but you’ll probably be fine… just don't get in the way of the camera crew.” Jonathan said, and Steve made a mental note of that… when it was the first thing everyone said to you, it was probably best to make sure not to fuck it up. “We just take shots for promotional stuff, for the website… whatever — it’s not that deep.” he went on to say, finally standing from his bags and really looking at Steve. “You need to borrow some gear…?” He went on to ask, staring skeptically at the camera in Steve’s hands.

“I’m fine.” Steve said, bristling a little. Yeah his camera was kind of old… kind of shitty. But he worked _magic_ with the thing, and he didn’t need the judgement.

Jonathan just shrugged, Steve was about to turn on his heel and go back to his own gear... When he got cut off by two people dressed in matching fluffy pink robes, blocking his way as they eyed him up and down.

One of them had freckles covering every inch of his face, trailing down his chest and disappearing into the deep V of his robe, an all too interested grin plastered on his face. The other, with rusty, perfectly curled hair. And eyes that seemed completely bored of everyone and everything— Steve got the impression that she was already reading him to pieces.

He knew who they were, he'd read plenty about them when he’d gotten off the phone with Heather… because he always came prepared, even if he didn’t exactly want to be here. Tommy and Carol, they worked together a lot — because they played off each other well. Carol liked to bring a man to his knees, and Tommy liked to be there waiting for him down in the dirt.

They had an intimidating aura of confidence, it rolled off them in waves and felt almost suffocating.

“What do we have _here_?” Carol said, fluttering her eyelids at him as she spoke, voice sickly sweet.

“You lost baby boy? Need someone to show you around?” Tommy joined in, licking at the front of his teeth.

Steve just flushed a little, laughing in a slightly uncomfortable way at how forward they were. “I’m kinda gonna be shooting you, so I guess we’re coworkers.”

“Ooh, new kid on the block… we should go for drinks tonight, to _celebrate_.” Carol offered suggestively, smiling at Steve like he was a shiny new toy to break.

Steve just shifted nervously. “Sure… maybe.” He didn’t exactly want to turn them down…even though he was pretty sure he was gonna have to take a rain check on that one. He didn’t need to fall into bed with _another_ pornstar— or two… not when he was still dealing with the fall out of the last one.

Tommy just made this vaguely predatory face, like he was enjoying watching the way Steve squirmed. “You sure you're the photographer? Like you’re not an _actor_... right? Gonna join the shoot half way in like—” He started to say, only for Carol to cut him off.

“Plot twist!” She shouted, smirking. “ _Fuck_ , that’d be hot.”

“So hot.” Tommy agreed, giving Steve some pretty heavy bedroom eyes.

“ _Uhm…_ ” Steve answered lamely, the two of them just exchanged glances.

“Damn, he’s cute— all stupid like that, right?” Carol said, grinning at Tommy.

“Super cute, super stupid... he’s _perfect_.” Tommy said, grinning back.

Before Steve could say anything to that, the two of them were linking arms and walking away together… their hips swaying, throwing a wink over their shoulders back at him.

“They bring a lot of energy to the shoot.” Jonathan said, from behind Steve.

“No kidding.” Steve replied drily, Jonathan just laughed. A shout of ‘TEN MINUTES!’ rang out through the warehouse, and Steve felt the nerves creep back in… he trailed after Jonathan like a baby duckling as cameras were wheeled into position.

And then Billy Hargrove was strolling in, draped in his own bathrobe— a deep navy blue, split down to his belly button. Showing _far_ too much skin, for something that was supposed to be covering him up until it was showtime.

Steve’s breath caught in his throat... he thought he had prepared himself enough for this moment, but he still stumbled and stared. Jonathan noticed, raising a brow at Steve as he flushed and snapped his gaze back down to his camera.

Still… he couldn’t seem to look away for long, his eyes drifting back up to find Billy laughing as he chatted with Tommy and Carol. Completely _ignoring_ Steve. And then there was that small spike of bitter pride, indignant over the fact that Billy brought him here just to pretend he didn’t exist.

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised by that, all things considered. But still… Steve would be the first to admit he was needy. He tried to tamp down that pesky desperation for Billy to just look his way... and at least acknowledge him.

“So…” Jonathan began, snapping Steve out of the way he was glaring, like he was trying to burn holes into the back of Billy’s head. “What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing!” Steve responded a little too quickly for it to actually be ‘nothing’. Jonathan just raised his hands up, like he didn’t realize he was stepping into a whole _thing_ by asking.

Steve sighed, he just needed to get through today… drive his ass home and fall into bed. Wait for a call from that magazine and... wash his hands of this entire, self-indulgent world. He decided to ignore Billy right back, and tried to take stock of where the video cameras were set up instead, so he could make sure not to ruin the shot.

And then a call went out, five minutes to shoot— and the actors were getting set up in the scene… which, apparently this whole thing was getting straight to the point. Steve remembered those cheesy pornos he used to sneak on VHS when he was younger, pizza boys getting pulled into houses and fucked— like a teenager had actually been the one to write the plot to the damn thing.

Being a teenager himself at the time, he didn’t have much issue with it.

But the porn world was... _apparently_ , pretty different now. And they didn’t waste their time with silly things like plot, instead getting right to the good stuff. Carol was dropping her robe and fastening the scariest looking strap-on Steve had ever _seen_ to herself.

“So… is she actually gonna…” Steve had leaned over to Jonathan to whisper the question.

“Oh yeah, it’s her thing.” Jonathan said conversationally, like it was just another day.

Steve swallowed, throat dry. Watching as the other two joined Carol in the nude, Tommy’s freckles covering every inch of him. And Billy... Steve couldn’t help but get a little mesmerized by the way his shoulder blades moved, muscles rolling under his skin as he shucked off the robe.

Someone was dashing by, shouting the words “ _Why isn't he fucking ready yet!?_ ” and Billy was rolling his eyes, flopping over the bed on set and lazily stroking himself. Tommy did not have the same problem that Billy seemed to, cock already jutting up against his stomach.

The freckles really were _everywhere_.

He was leaning over... and Steve was straining to hear the words “Need some help with that?” slide out of Tommy’s mouth. And he frowned as Billy’s face split into a grin, as he lifted his hips up like it was welcome. Steve felt the tiny curl of jealousy in his gut, and then it hit him like a slap to the face…

He finally realized _exactly_ why he was here.

Billy wanted him to _watch_. Wanted him to know that everything was just business as usual, and whatever happened between them didn’t mean shit. That he got railed by beautiful people on the daily, and Steve was barely worth his time… he wanted to play it off like Steve hadn’t _seen_ something, a piece of Billy Hargrove that he tried to keep smothered.

Steve was determined not to let it bother him, determined to keep his cool on the job. Whatever Billy was hoping to get out of this game… Steve wasn’t playing. He just needed to get his dick on board with that plan.

Someone was counting down to action, and Steve was raising his camera up— letting the scene before him get filtered through lenses, separating him from the reality of it. He watched as hands slid over Billy’s skin, thin ones with long pink nails… larger ones covered in spots, pausing to pinch at an already stiffening nipple.

The sound Billy made almost had Steve jumping out of his skin, an exaggerated moan… one that seemed even louder in the mostly empty warehouse. He could hear the nearly silent snapping of Jonathan's camera, the crew moving around the room… cameras slowly sliding across the floor, the whisper of a couple people in the far back of the room— far enough not to get picked up by the boom mic suspended overhead.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was supposed to be taking photos… so he shook the fog from his head and set to it. Caught Tommy’s fingers pulling back, flicking open a tube of Astroglide and slicking up his fingers. Tossing the tube over to Carol who effortlessly snatched it out of the air.

He caught Billy rolling over onto his hands and knees, pressing his face into Tommy’s thigh and licking a stripe of saliva up over the freckled skin. Tommy leaned forward and got his hands on Billy’s ass, fingers circling the rim teasingly… before burying them in, stretching the hole wide for the cameras.

Carol was dumping an excessive amount of lube over her strap on, tossing the bottle out of the shot and using her hand to spread it over the sizable silicone attachment. Steve’s breath caught in his throat, as Tommy pulled his fingers back to just the tips… pulling Billy open as Carol pressed the blunt head of it to Billy’s hole, as she angled her hips forward and sunk in.

Billy’s mouth parted around a moan, face rubbing against Tommy’s thigh as Carol jolted him forward with the force of her hips connecting with his ass. She said something along the lines of; “Yeah big boy you gonna take that like the bitch you are?” while slapping his ass, not that Steve was really listening to her.

Because he was too busy watching Billy mouth at Tommy’s cock, watching that smug look on Tommy’s face as he grabbed Billy’s chin and fed him the tip… Only to have Carol slam into his backside and drive him in deep, Billy choking a little as Tommy hit the back of his throat.

And yeah, Steve didn’t really know how to deal with watching Billy getting railed from both sides, didn’t know how to deal with the way Carol’s long fingernails clawed at his back and left little red marks all over his skin… Didn’t know how to deal with the spit slicking all over Tommy’s cock, smearing his thighs and dribbling down Billy’s chin.

“Happens to the best of us.” Jonathan's soft voice brought Steve out of it, had him glancing down at himself and the obvious tent in his pants.

Once upon a time, Steve was _very_ smooth. Now he felt a bit like a mess.

When he glanced back up, he caught Billy looking straight at him— for the first time since Steve had gotten here. Eyes full of heat, and Steve couldn’t tell if it was hatred or _want_ … Two blue pools of mystery locked onto him as Tommy came down Billy’s throat. Then he pulled out and wiped himself off on Billy’s shoulder, leaving a smear of spit and cum over his tattoo.

“For fuck's sake newbie, OUT OF THE SHOT!” Someone yelled, and Steve snapped back to reality— flinching out of the way of the cameras as they rolled around to get a shot of Billy’s face… he was immediately humiliated, and he considered trying to play the whole thing off. But it was just too much, he was overwhelmed... and he felt a little sick with everything.

So he dashed off the set, ignoring the look of concern Jonathan shot him… only slightly aware of the way Billy’s eyes followed him on his way out. He found a bathroom and locked himself in, leaning against the sink and taking in three deep breaths.

_One... two... three._

His hands were shaking, clammy... he wiped them down the sides of his jeans. Disappointment was the strongest thing, pounding in his chest and swirling through his head. The humor of this being the _second_ time Billy had managed to somehow humiliate him in a room full of people— and drive Steve to find solace in a bathroom— was not lost on him.

“ _Shit..._ ” He breathed out, and he had to laugh a little. This was all ridiculous, the entire situation. He was supposed to be taking photos he could be proud of, he wanted to be a goddamn _artist_. Instead he let himself get swept up in whatever the hell this world was. Hollywood and all its corruption, he’d spent the last three years of his life shooting for some garbage magazine, only to get fired over a single screw-up like he was nothing.

And now he was hiding in a bathroom, after making an idiot of himself on a porno shoot.

He turned around, flicked the faucet on and let the water run cold… splashed himself with it, and stared into his reflection. “You got this dumbass, get back out there.” nodded at himself, drying his face on the sleeve of his shirt and walking back onto set.

* * *

Porn shoots ran long, and Steve really didn’t know how the actors even did it. Because he was already sick of looking at balls, tits, assholes and dicks and... how could anyone stand to do this every day of their life?

And to be honest, it was killing the magic that was porn. He'd spent about thirty minutes on set, and pretty quickly realized everything was fake. Tommy ran out of cum fifteen minutes in, and various Staff members were just covering Billy in stuff that came out of a plastic tub.

It really took the sex appeal out of things.

Not to mention the lights overhead were hot, and the entire warehouse must have gone up by ten degrees since they started… Steve was sweating, and he was pretty sure he could _smell_ one of the camera men to his left.

Nothing about this was glamorous— and Billy had actually pulled out a book and started reading while they got a final shot of Tommy eating him out. Steve was surprised he was even allowed to do that, but he supposed Billy’s reputation was enough to where people were just happy to have him at all.

“Alright, we got it— everyone's good.” Someone said, and there was a collective sigh of relief. Steve and Jonathan were quickly ushered over to a table and prompted to hand their film over, because apparently they had ‘professionals to go through that stuff’.

Steve felt mildly riled up by that, but relaxed when Jonathan's hand hit his back. He turned to catch him just shaking his head, seemingly mouthing the words ‘not worth it’. Then they were both getting a check shoved into their hands, and someone not so subtly suggested that their work here was done.

Jonathan headed for the door, while Steve swung his head around… Billy was already off set, and he was pretty sure he’d noticed some dressing rooms when he’d run out earlier during the shoot…

So he took off in the opposite direction of the exit, counting his luck that no one even seemed to notice. Steve found Billy’s dressing room easily enough, it had his name plastered over it in stupid, tacky gold letters. He breathed in through his nose, let it out slow… and grabbed the handle, shoving the door open.

“Heather... not now, I just need—” Billy started to say, his voice droning a little... he sounded tired. His back was turned to Steve, and he was draped in the same blue robe from earlier... he still smelled like sex.

“Not Heather.” Steve cut him off, and Billy whipped around to stare at Steve, gold curls whipping himself in the face as he spun.

“You don’t knock?” Billy spat, lip curling into a sneer.

“Why am I here?” Steve pressed on with his planned question rather than answering that… because yeah, he wanted to hear it straight from Billy— even if he already knew why.

“Thought you were looking for a job..." Billy replied lazily, leaning against the vanity that was behind him. "You should be thanking me."

“That’s… that’s not why.” Steve insisted, stepping further into the room… letting the door close behind him. It was quiet for a moment, the air tense between them as Billy seemed to be mulling that over.

“Fine... you wanna know why?” Billy suddenly bit out, "You put that _fucking_ picture of me... On the front page of some piece of shit magazine, without my _permission!_ " he flinched back as he realized he'd let his usual mask of calm slip.

“Yeah okay— and I’m sorry… I didn’t know they were gonna put it on the cover." He really meant that apology... but that wasn't what he'd come here to say. "But you didn’t need to bring me here, just to show me that what happened… that it didn’t mean anything— because I already _knew_ that!” Steve bit back, his own anger seeping through.

“ _Man_ , you really are slow..." Billy laughed dryly, leaning back against the vanity. "How’d you get through school with that head full of rocks?” 

“ _Fuck you._ ” Steve was pushing forwards, getting up in Billy’s space— storming through the room until they were right in front of each other. A look of concern passed through Billy’s face, and Steve wondered if he was about to get a fist to the face… but he just kept still, lips pursed tightly.

“I’m not that dumb, I know you wanted me _jealous_ — I know that photo being printed like that, made you _feel_ something… something you didn’t like, and I _know_ it made you want to rub my face in the dirt… because apparently, that's how you deal with things you don't like.” Steve said, voice pitching low and dangerous.

Billy's eyes were dark, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Yeah? And how do _you_ deal with things you don't like?” Billy asked, his voice had gone husky... and his tongue slipped out to swipe over his lips.

Steve couldn’t help but stare at the wet sheen that was left behind, Billy’s mouth still all pink and swollen from sucking Tommy’s dick. And in that moment, all Steve wanted to do was lick away whatever those two had left behind. He knocked Billy’s legs apart, until he could slide in between them… dropped to his knees.

“Well, I don't like being _ignored_ … so maybe I'll show you what you’re missing.” Steve said, dropping his voice and glancing up— taking in Billy’s tense gaze, watching as Steve reached out to untie the thin, fluffy belt keeping Billy’s robe closed.

“ _Fuck._ ” Billy hissed, he was already hard— despite having spent himself several times on the shoot already. A small drip of precum was welling up at the tip of his cock, running from the slit and down under the head. Steve curled his fingers around the base, pulling it down gently.

Heavy hands landed on Steve’s head and tangled into his hair, tugged him forward roughly. Steve flinched as Billy’s dick hit him right in the face— smearing a wet spot all over his cheek.

“ _Show me._ ” Billy said, sounding wrecked... staring down at Steve with hooded lids.

Steve stuck his tongue out, pressed it to Billy’s length and dragged slowly up… pausing lick at the slit, the salty sweet taste of Billy hitting him like a rush. His head swam with it, and he opened wide to take Billy in… still felt the stretch at the corners of his mouth, like Billy’s cock was too fat for _anyone_ to take in clean.

He groaned with it, with the heavy weight pressing down on his tongue… with the way he had to fight back a gag as the thick head of Billy’s cock hit hard against the back of his throat. His eyelids fluttering at the way Billy’s hands tightened in his hair and tugged again— like Billy just wanted to inch in _deeper_.

Steve relaxed his throat, brown eyes flicking up to catch blue ones staring down at him… pupils dilated, lips just slightly parted as he watched Steve sink down. “ _Damn_ , pretty boy… You lookin’ for a different kinda job?” Billy asked huskily, his nails digging into Steve’s scalp.

He just hummed around Billy’s cock… and he could _feel_ the way it twitched against his tongue. Steve pulled against the grip Billy had on him, and Billy loosened his fingers— let Steve draw off with an obscene smacking sound. Steve swirled his tongue around the head, before taking him in again.

Steve slid down Billy’s length painfully slow, only to have Billy get impatient and pull him down the rest of the way— his hips lifting off the desk to snap up into Steve’s throat. He just breathed in deep, face pressed uncomfortably tight against Billy’s groin. The heavy musk of him burning Steve’s nose, Billy smelled like sex and sweat and the hint of some cologne that Steve couldn’t place.

His eyes were watering, and he tapped lightly at Billy’s thigh… couldn’t quite breathe with Billy so deep in his throat. Billy quickly released his grip, let Steve pull half way off— let Steve set the pace again, bobbing his head up and down slowly.

Steve trailed his hand further up Billy’s thigh, slipped in between his asscheeks… and Billy let out a groan as Steve slid his fingers up into that warm, already fucked loose hole. Billy was watching him like he was the only thing in the world, like Steve was the best he’d ever had. Which was a _ridiculous_ thought, because Billy'd had professionals.

He was still slick with lube, and Steve’s fingers moved in and out easily— matched with the rhythm of his mouth. Billy’s hands were suddenly gently running through Steve’s hair, like a switch had been flipped. Hard melting away to soft, his breath hitching... little moans slipping out from between his lips.

Steve took him in deep, crooked his fingers until he found that spot… the one that had Billy crying out into the room, his hips bucking up. Steve rubbed slowly, relentlessly, tried to swirl his tongue under the heavy weight of Billy’s cock.

“Fuck, I’m… _I’m gonna—_ ” Billy warned, voice pitching higher. He tugged lightly at Steve’s hair, urging him off. Steve just looked up at him through thick brown lashes, hummed and swallowed around him… like it was permission.

Billy groaned and threw his head back, then his muscles were tensing… and Steve could feel his hole clenching around his fingers, thighs shaking and cock throbbing against Steve’s tongue. He shot down the back of Steve’s throat with a wrecked moan. And really, it was more than Steve had been expecting… because Billy had already cum at least _two_ times today.

Still, he swallowed all of it down. Throat working around Billy, milking every last drop out... before he pulled back, Billy’s softening cock falling from his lips. Steve was still gently rubbing his fingers against Billy’s prostate, and Billy whined… slapping the hand away.

“Okay... “ Billy finally said, after catching his breath. “Maybe we can work something out.” Steve just laughed, bright and unexpected… even to himself. Billy blinked down at him, watching as Steve readjusted his glasses from where they’d been knocked askew.

“What did you have in mind?” Steve asked. His voice was raw, sore from having Billy's cock down his throat.

Before Billy could elaborate on that, the door swung open… startling both of them.

Heather was standing there, a shocked expression frozen comically onto her face. “Oh… _hell_ no.” She said, looking like she was about to kill Steve… or Billy.

Or _both_ of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally Billy’s manager was gonna be Carol, so I wrote her like that - But then the pornstar duo happened and I didn’t know what to do, so now she’s a _very sassy_ Heather.
> 
> I’m not even sorry.
> 
>  **Thank you for reading!** As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (as is any feedback) — if you liked this work, you can reblog it from [**right here**](https://shewritesdirty.tumblr.com/post/623290986139893760/slip-slide)~


	3. Overexposure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I really didn’t think I would have this chapter up this week - and like, okay it's still Saturday for me (barely) so I technically made it. I don’t know what happened, but almost this entire thing was written Friday night. Like I spent all week doing nothing and floundering... then my ass was just like LET’S GO BITCH. So yeah, here you go. 
> 
> It hits some similar notes of chapter one, I mean this whole fic is just Steve thinking about Billy, and then _watching_ Billy. REALLY. But it moves the plot along and it's smut so /shrug. 
> 
> Hopefully y'all enjoy it.

“What the _hell_ … Do you two think you’re doing?” Heather asked.

Billy had tied his robe back up, and Steve was currently trying to ignore the very painful erection trapped in his pants… this was the second time today he’d had to deny his dick, and the big guy was beginning to get _sore_ over it.

“Nothing.” Billy simply said, answering for the both of them.

“ _Nothing…_ ” Heather repeated, glaring at them.

“I seem to remember you saying something like… ‘ _kiss and makeup_ ’” Billy said, grinning wide now.

“ _That_... is a figure of speech. Besides, it didn’t look like kissing to me.” Heather sighed, rolling her shoulders out… like the stress of dealing with Billy left her feeling stiff. Steve could relate to that, he subtly tried to shift himself into a more comfortable position.

“He was kissing my dick.” Billy explained, shrugging. Steve flushed bright red and choked a little on his own spit.

“Okay, can I just… interject for a minute here?” Steve finally said when he managed to resume breathing. The two of them just looked at him, like they were kind of surprised he had anything to say at all. “Is it really such a big deal? I mean we’re both adults here.” he finished, ignoring the way Heather's expression darkened as he spoke.

“Maybe physically.” She fired back, before groaning and scrubbing her face with the palm of her hand. “You really have no idea what you’re getting into…”

“ _Don’t._ ” Billy said bitterly, looking away.

“He has a right to know...” She started to say, and Billy was up quick — shoving away from the vanity and stalking out of the dressing room with a mumbled "Not hanging around for this shit…" Steve just watched him go, more confused than ever.

“I have a right to know what?” Steve pressed.

“Billy is… not exactly boyfriend material.” She said, shaking her head. “And you just, give off those _vibes_ … like you think that's where this thing is headed. But it isn’t, I _know_ him Steve — I’ve been working with him for three years, and he’s like a brother to me…” She paused, glancing at the door still left wide open from Billy’s hasty exit.

“But he destroys men with skin _twice_ as thick as yours, and I just don’t wanna see it happen again. Besides, I kind of like you.” She said it with a little gag at the end, like it actually made her physically ill to admit that.

“Okay fine... But you said ‘he was bothered all week’ that has to mean something, right?” Steve asked, making little air quotes as he recalled Heather’s rant at Scoops.

“You threw him, with the photos you took… and then you went and _published them_ …” Heather shook her head, leveled a disappointed stare at Steve. “And whatever happened in your session had an effect on him too, not in a _good_ way Steve.”

Steve felt guilty at that, recalled the face Billy made while he threw Steve’s shit out of his apartment. Like he hadn’t thought about that enough, in the last few weeks.

“But even if he likes you, he _will_ get bored of you.” Heather finished, leveling a serious stare at Steve.

“Thanks, uh… thank you for the warning — I mean it.” Steve said, standing and pacing in the room a little while he thought. “But I think I’m going to have to uh, find that out for myself.” He finished, stopping in his tracks and looking at Heather. She was smiling sadly, shaking her head a little.

“Thought you might say something like that... good luck _pretty boy_.” She said, making a point to use Billy’s pet name for Steve. He shot her a thumbs up before dashing out of the dressing room to find the guy before he left.

He managed to find Billy back on set, the warehouse was mostly cleared out by now. And it was just them and a few camera men left, who were currently too busy with packing up the last of their gear to pay them any mind.

“So, what’s a guy gotta do around here to get a pornstars number?” Steve asked smoothly, sliding up behind him. Billy startled for a second, before turning to aim a sly smile at Steve.

“I’d say sucking his dick like that got you a pretty good chance.” Billy replied easily, eyes tracking the movement of Steve’s hand as he got his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans and offered it up. “She didn’t scare you off.” Billy went on to say, a statement more than a question… his expression unreadable as he took Steve’s phone and _hopefully_ made a contact for himself.

“Nope, I don’t scare easy.” Steve answered, and Billy’s eyes flicked up to him for a second before returning to the phone.

“Good, because I want you to be the only one who photographs me.” Billy said casually, handing the phone back over. Steve just blinked at him, mouth dropping open a little.

“Wait — _what?_ ” Steve asked, suddenly feeling like he wasn’t quite keeping up.

“Obviously, for big movies this doesn't apply… but for my solo stuff, it’s all you. I’ll have Heather cancel with everyone else, and let you know what days you’re expected.” Billy said, winking as he brushed past Steve and made his way back to the dressing rooms. “Very excited for our little partnership Stevie baby, I’m sure you’ll make me look good.” he finished, throwing the sentence over his shoulder like it was nothing.

Steve flicked open his contact list, blanching at the new one Billy had made… ‘ _Your New Boss_ ’.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that.

* * *

Robin simply howled with laughter when Steve filled her in on what happened. “Oh my god… he really _does_ own you.” She said when she finally stopped wheezing long enough to speak.

“I thought maybe we’d like… go on a date.” Steve said, staring forlorn at the tub of ice cream sitting on the counter. He’d just got it from the freezer out back, and Robin was _supposed_ to be sweeping the place… but it seemed more like she was more interested in taking jabs at Steve’s tender bits.

“C’mon don't make me laugh anymore — my stomach's cramping.” She said, wiping at an invisible tear under her eye. “You seriously thought you were gonna get a date with Billy ‘ _Hurricane_ ’ Hargrove?”

Steve just groaned at that, heaving up the replacement tub of ‘Atomic Berry Blast’ and dropping it into the cooler. It was nearly closing time, and they were expected to change out the ice cream that was getting low. Robin and Steve generally roshambo’d for who got to take home the sad few remaining scoops of ice cream in whatever flavor they were replacing, but tonight was Robin’s claim — because he _hated_ Atomic Berry Blast.

“You would be miserable, by the way.” Robin said, counting out the tip jar into two piles. “Dating a guy like that.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve said, and at this point he was fully aware that he was pouting.

“Okay so, it would be exactly like last weekend — except he’s doing it constantly, cause like… it’s his fucking _job_. You getting jealous while he fucks other people, yeah seems healthy.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“I’d be fine.” Steve argued, even though he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be. He’d always had problems with insecurities in relationships, he was the guy who’d been cheated on before. He really tried not to give off that energy, but he just… did.

“Please, I don’t even know you that well… and I _still_ know you’re lying.” Was all she said.

And maybe Robin had a point.

Besides... trying to figure out Billy’s intentions was like running around in circles, all it did was leave Steve dizzy and exhausted. So when he got home on a Tuesday night from his shift at Scoops, he decided to do some research on his ‘new job’.

It took him about three minutes to find Billy’s Onlyfans. He shelled out the twenty five bucks to unlock everything faster than he’d like to admit, and kind of choked a little when he saw how _much_ content there actually was. Photos, videos, short blog posts… Billy posted _a lot_.

And really all that meant to Steve, was that he was going to be _working_ a lot. The latest shots being uploaded looked professional, and as Steve scrolled through to older uploads they started to look less and less so. It was obvious when Billy had gone from doing this himself to using a hired photographer.

The angles were much less creative, the overall quality lower... Steve had to wonder how many people watching actually cared about that though... like were they sitting there dick in hand, wishing the lighting was just a little bit better?

Still, even to someone like Steve, the amateur ones had their charm — he had scrolled nearly to the beginning and found a fresh faced Billy waiting there… clicked on a video, startled a little by Billy’s voice suddenly filling his apartment, and hastily turned the volume down.

“Hey! Okay so I’ve had kind of a shit day — figured I’d come on here and spend a little time with my favorite degenerates…” Steve quickly realized this was a stream, recorded and re-uploaded later. He watched as Billy paused to seemingly read some comments, watched the way his eyes crinkled up and he threw his head back to laugh at something. “Yeah, don’t bitch about it. I say that fondly, you shits.”

Billy leaned back and licked over his bottom lip. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt that looked like it’d been _through_ some shit, worn out and threadbare. When he raised his arms, it rode up over his belly enough for the shape of a bruise to peek out from under the fabric.

Steve frowned… tried to get a closer look at it — winced at how big it seemed, tender and mottled with blues and purples. And then he started noticing other things, like the heaviness of Billy’s eyes, the frown that slipped in when Billy dropped his synthetic forced happiness for a moment.

He clicked the video off, before things could escalate... and felt a little sick. He scrolled back up, back to the new stuff. Steve didn’t think he could handle watching any more of Billy when he was just starting out.

When he'd found the more professional stuff again, he felt his dick twitch to life. Staring at photos of Billy spread out, fingers buried deep, slick with lube that ran down over his knuckles. If Steve stuffed a hand down the front of his pants and rubbed a quick one out, well that was between him and the walls of his apartment.

With that little business out of the way... he spent another three hours looking through Billy’s shit. Mostly reading the blog posts, the little bits of Billy’s life he actually decided to share with the people who subscribed. It was all very normal, him talking about his favorite place to get boba tea — with an attached photo of some bright pink drink that looked too sugary for _anyone_ to enjoy.

Pictures of him on vacation, spread out on a beach that was far too beautiful and deserted to be anything here in California. There were lots like that, like the only vacation Billy ever had was on a beach somewhere… It explained the tan.

Or just him on set getting ready for whatever was next to be filmed, looking bored out of his mind as hair and makeup worked on him. A lot of selfies, with stupid little captions. The kind of shit you’d send your _friends_ , not the thousands of people paying money every month to watch you finger your ass open wide.

Not that the fans didn’t seem to like it, some of these posts got even more comments than the porn did. Steve was baffled.

There were polls too, it seemed like Billy encouraged viewer interaction in as much as possible… let them vote for the next photo set or video to go up. Steve found himself voting in the latest one, selecting ‘Blindfolded, bound and at your mercy’ it had a little emoji winky face at the end. And yes, Steve was a weak man... because he actually _shuddered_ a little when he saw the results, and that it was convincingly winning out against the other options.

And then he realized he’d spent his entire night looking at Billy’s stupid porn site… and it was now way past midnight. He groaned and flopped back against his pillow, let his cellphone fall next to him on the mattress and stared hopelessly up at the ceiling, let himself be mesmerized by the way it lit up with artificial light from the glow of his screen.

Everyone had been warning him to stay away from Billy, but this was the first time his own _brain_ was properly yelling at him.

Like an alarm going off.

‘What are you getting yourself into?’ hammering relentlessly through his head as he closed his eyes, and pretended like sleep was just around the corner.

* * *

He tried not to worry too much about the fact that he hadn’t heard back from that magazine all weekend long.

Tried to head out to his job at Scoops Monday morning with his head held high. Getting the call back from that magazine was probably the one thing that would make him confident enough to press his thumb on that stupid number in his stupid phone… and tell Billy to shove his job up his stupid, perfect ass.

He spent the rest of the day thinking about Billy's ass.

When he finally got home he would be more than happy to stumble into his apartment, flop on his couch and watch mind numbing TV until he passed out. Which, was exactly what the _plan_ was… until he stumbled over something on his front step. He glanced down to take in a tiny unassuming package sitting there. He hadn’t ordered anything — but when he checked for who it was addressed to… it _said_ it was for him.

He opened the front door while curiously turning the package over his hand, kicked the door shut behind him and didn’t even bother to take off his shoes — headed straight for the kitchen and grabbed a knife from the dish drainer… slicing open the tape and falling into a dining chair.

Steve fiddled with the packing, pulling it out and letting it fall to the floor… then he pulled a second box out of the first packing box, flipping it over and — and his soul nearly left his _body_. A note was tacked to the front of the box, but Steve could still easily see the name splashed over the front… Canon EOS… and not just any Canon EOS.

But the fucking _expensive_ one. The one with more bells and whistles than Steve knew what to _do_ with, the one that cost more than three months of rent. In _California_.

‘ _Thought you might need an upgrade, pretty boy._ ’

Steve just stared at the note, face going a deeper shade of red by the minute… he willed his fingers to work, to undo the box and pull the camera out… braced himself for the joke, the spring loaded snake to pop out, because that was just the sort of luck he had. But it never came.

Instead he pulled a shiny black camera out, sleek and smooth. Ran his fingers over the surface, before setting it aside and peering at the manual. He wondered if Billy even knew what he’d bought, or if he’d just walked into some shop and asked the attendant for the most expensive one they had. And then he realized he couldn’t accept this gift, that it was too much.

He stared at the manual for another ten minutes, before shoving it aside and fishing his cellphone out of his back pocket… scrolling through his contacts and tapping the entry for Billy… the one he’d passive aggressively renamed to ‘Entitled Dickface’

He paced nervously across the kitchen tile while he listened to it ring, muttering “ _Pick up, pick up, pick up…_ ” the whole time. Steve nearly jumped out of his skin, when Billy actually _did_ pick up on the fourth ring.

“This Hurricane’s about to touch down baby, think you’re ready for it?”

_Holy shit._

“I’m sorry… do you answer the phone like that every time?” Steve asked, completely knocked off his original course by the sheer absurdity of what he just heard.

“ _Pretty boy!_ ” Billy exclaimed, like he was actually happy to hear from Steve. “It’s my brand, gotta keep up appear-”

“This is too much.” Steve cut in, and Billy made this little sound like he’d just tripped over his own tongue.

There was a moment of silence, before Billy’s voice filtered back in — confident as ever. “What’s too much?”

“The camera! You can’t just buy me things like this!” Steve answered, feeling exasperated now.

“It’s for work. Think of it as… me, investing in you.” Billy said, voice silky smooth... barely covering up all the implications of what he seemed to be saying. “Why, you don't like it?”

“ _Like_ it?! Billy… fuck — I’ve never even held one of these in my hands!” Steve said, not quite able to keep the awe from seeping into his tone. Billy just laughed, it sounded terribly fond.

“Wanna test it out?” He asked, voice pitching lower.

“Fuck yeah!” Steve answered quickly, completely forgetting the whole reason he’d called in the first place. Billy laughed again, and Steve didn’t even feel all that embarrassed about the unbridled enthusiasm he’d shown — because he was far too busy being excited by the prospect of giving Sandy a whirl.

Okay, so maybe he’d named the camera already.

“ _Perfect_ , because I actually need you to come take some shots… The results are in for my latest poll and — Baby, did you _subscribe_ to me?” Billy asked suddenly, and Steve wondered how the hell Billy could make his voice sound like it was dripping _sex_ like that. He also wondered why he had been stupid enough to choose a username that was actually just his real name.

“Um. Okay, that was… that was research.” Steve stuttered out, sitting at the kitchen table again to take his new camera into his hands… treating it gingerly, like he was handling the damn Holy Grail.

“You’re so _thorough_ …” Billy teased, and Steve flushed at that... felt extra glad Billy couldn’t actually see him right now.

“What uh... what won?” Steve asked, trying to make the question sound casual. And _failing_ , if Billy’s responding chuckle was anything to go by.

“Tied, blindfolded... hands free fun. My fans are perverts.” Billy said, and Steve could almost _hear_ the sharp grin he probably had plastered on as he spoke.

“Oh yeah, that one.” Steve said, trying to ignore the way his dick seemed very interested in that. Turns out, Steve was a pervert too.

“Can’t do it without you though, pretty boy... You remember where to go?”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, as if he could possibly forget Billy’s ridiculously opulent apartment building. He was just surprised they didn't have something like, live peacocks wandering the lobby.

“Well then... _come on over, come on over bay-be~_ ” Billy sang into the phone, hanging up before Steve could respond to that.

That was about the moment Steve realized he hadn’t even charged this thing yet.

* * *

Quick charge USB had to be one of the world's greatest inventions — Steve was sure of it. By the time he was out of the shower and on his way to Billy’s, the battery was already good to go. Not that he wasn’t expecting an earful anyway, Billy wasn’t the kind of guy who liked waiting on other people.

He’d gotten a cab, so he could fiddle with the thing on the way. So he could familiarize himself with it enough to not waste any _more_ of Billy’s time by trying to sort it out on the job. He’d been forced to learn some retouching in college, using digital media — so he felt like he was at least somewhat equipped for this.

But he would be lying, if he said he wasn’t kind of sad at the prospect of less time spent in the dark room… and more time hunched over a computer screen, with the glare making his eyes sore.

When he got to the front of the building, he was pleasantly surprised by the fact that the doorman seemed to recognize him… the guy nodded, ushered him in without giving him any trouble this time. Steve wondered not for the first time why the hell a doorman needed to be that buff, and Steve had the sneaking suspicion that he was more like hired muscle.

No one accosted him in the lobby, and no one seemed to think he was lost. He made his way to the elevators and hit the button… rocking on his heels a little as he waited for it to come down. He felt just as out of place here as the last time, hair a little messy from rushing out of the house. Usually he spent at least an hour taming the mane, but it wasn’t like _he_ was the one getting photos taken of him tonight.

Nerves hit him hard as the elevator doors slid open with a ‘ding!’ and that queasy feeling settled right in his gut. He tried to push it down, stepped in and hit Billy’s floor. Rode all the way up to the twenty sixth again, counting off the numbers as they filtered by on the overhead LED screen.

“ _Here goes nothing.._.” He breathed to himself, as the doors swung open and that same sound signaled his arrival. His sneakers squeaked on the shiny smooth tile as he crossed the hall to Billy’s door, and knocked again. He had that overwhelming sense of deja-vu when he heard no response.

Steve sighed, and pushed his way in anyway.

The apartment looked just as ridiculous as he remembered, if not a little cleaner. That big bed still in the middle of the room... the sun was already setting and the whole place was cast in an orange glow. He realized they were going to need artificial lighting, and kicked himself for not bringing any with him.

“You’re fuckin’ _late_.” Billy’s voice drifted in from the left, sounding extremely annoyed… and muffled. Steve turned to find Billy sitting on his kitchen island, in pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt… shoving a slice of pizza in his mouth.

Steve felt like he’d already fallen into that inescapable place of, ‘the guest you put zero effort in for’ Not that Billy didn’t still somehow manage to look incredibly attractive in his shitty pjs and bare feet.

“What’s Gojira?” Steve asked, pointing at the logo on the shirt.

“A band, numbnuts.” Billy said, grinning around a mouthful of pizza. “Or a big ass lizard… depends who you ask.” he went on, suddenly appearing thoughtful for a second... before frowning.“Don’t dodge the question, you’re late.”

“We didn’t actually set a time...” Steve started to say, wandering over to the kitchen to join Billy. He reached out to take a slice from the pizza box, only to have Billy slap his hand away. “ _Ow_ \- I had to charge the camera battery, okay?” Steve explained when Billy just leveled a glare at him.

Billy’s nostrils flared as he breathed out a huff and rolled his head away to look anywhere but at Steve. He took that as permission, reaching out again to take a slice, getting away with it this time. Steve turned around and heaved himself up onto the edge of the island to join Billy, their legs hanging over the edge… sitting side by side. He wondered if he should have taken his shoes off, but Billy didn’t seem like the kind of guy who worried about shit like that.

“Sausage? Predictable.” Steve said, before taking a bite out of his slice. Billy scoffed, and Steve snuck a glance to catch a little grin on his face. “Is it too late? Want me to come back tomorrow?” he offered.

“Nah, you’re already here.” Billy replied casually, smile dropping as he reached over to grab another slice of pizza for himself. “Might as well get it over with.”

“Gee, thanks.” Steve said with a laugh, and Billy just rolled his eyes.

“ _Please_... not everything is about _you_ , princess.” He said, shoving half the pizza in his mouth.

“Okay, if anyone's the princess here…” Steve paused, the only sound in the apartment the gross mouth noises Billy was making as he tried to chew all that pizza. “Wait — what’s it about then?” he suddenly finished as Billy swallowed.

Billy sighed, leaned back a little… stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t really like being restrained like that… but it’s popular.” He started to explain, “And I can handle it, it’s just… not my favorite.” He finished, taking another bite of his pizza.

And fuck, Steve immediately felt guilty. Not that his vote really made a difference either way, but it was the _principle_ of the thing. He didn’t like the idea of contributing to putting Billy into a situation where he wasn’t comfortable. He also realized he really didn’t know anything about Billy, besides the stupid, meaningless shit that ended up in interviews or internet blogs about the industry.

“I’m sorry.” Steve finally said, polishing off the last bite of his pizza before shoving off the counter to go wash his hands… no way he was touching his new camera with grease on his fingers.

“'Fuck you sorry for? It’s _business_ , baby.” Was all Billy said, his eyes tracking Steve as he moved across the room... who couldn't seem to find a single napkin or hand towel after he’d finished washing… so he just wiped his wet hands off on his jeans.

“I guess so... But you shouldn’t have to do stuff that makes you uncomfortable.” Steve said, coming back around and lifting the brand new camera up from where it hung around his chest… he flicked it on and swung it around the room, checking how it was picking up the light in here.

When he swept it over Billy, the guy struck a pose **—** legs pulled up onto the counter and folded over each other, head turned to the side as he let his mouth fall open wide… stuck his tongue out and let the end of his pizza slice slowly droop into his mouth from over head.

Steve laughed, before taking a photo. He got the impression Billy liked making people laugh, that maybe he was playful like this more often than not… Steve laughed even _harder_ when Billy made a show of deepthroating the pizza slice.

“You’re crazy.” Steve said when he finally caught his breath, and Billy’s eyes sparkled.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Billy replied through a mouthful of pizza. Steve just shook his head and went to adjust the settings on his camera, took a few more test shots of the apartment before wandering over to the center of the room. He frowned a little at how dark it was where that big round bed sat.

“What’s the lighting like in here?” Steve asked, glancing over his shoulder at Billy.

Billy just hopped up off the counter, wandered over to a side table and came back with his phone. Made a real show of fiddling with it, and then slid his hand up the screen… and the entire room faded to purple. Steve just stared at him — clearly unamused, as Billy waggled his eyebrows.

“Very cool, also not helpful.” Steve said, and Billy just rolled his eyes.

“ _Killjoy_.” He muttered, messing with his phone some more… before hitting something that turned the entire room to bright white light. Steve squinted a little, trying to let his eyes adjust slowly. “Let’s get this show on the road.” Billy was saying behind him, their shoulders brushing as he walked by and turned to sit on the edge of the bed.

Steve quickly turned away when Billy lifted his shirt up over his head… as if he wasn’t about to see Billy in _far_ more intimate ways in a matter of moments. It was understandable why Billy was so open and free with his body... but it felt strange to Steve. He was still trying to get used to the way Billy just dropped clothes like it was nothing.

The sun had finished setting since Steve got here, and the city lights were blinking up at them from out the window. It made for a nice backdrop… and Steve moved a bit to make sure it was going to show up straight in frame.

“How are you with video, pretty boy?” Billy asked, and Steve’s attention flicked back to him… flushed when he saw Billy had already stripped his bottoms off, and that he hadn’t even bothered wearing underwear.

“I’m decent.” Steve said, glancing towards the kitchen… trying to decide if he wanted to steal another chair like last time.

“You being modest, or is that code for ‘I’m shit’?” Billy pressed.

Steve looked back at Billy, “Good enough for this.” he said dryly. Billy just grinned sharp, like he was getting revved up.

“ _Fuck_ yeah, bet you are.” Billy nodded to that same table that was covered in horrifying things last time… Steve wandered over and saw only three things now — a Blindfold, some rope, and a little metal vibrator shaped like a plug… with a wireless controller. “How about with _knots_?” Billy asked, voice dripping with suggestion.

“I have a little experience…” Steve said, running his hands over the rope carefully. It was good quality, hemp. He expected nothing less, considering the amount of money Billy made.

“Bring that shit here.” Billy demanded, and Steve collected the things… depositing all but the rope on the bed with Billy. He looked away as Billy snatched the vibrator and spit on it, stared into the kitchen, at the wide open box of pizza… two slices left. “It’s in, you can look now.” Billy said, obviously thinking Steve’s attempt at salvaging his modesty was ridiculous.

Steve turned back, and nearly earned himself a vibrator controller straight to the face — as Billy lobbed it to him. “What the fuck?!” Steve snapped.

“You’re in the driver's seat tonight, baby.” Billy just said, smirking.

“Seriously…?” Steve muttered, stuffing the controller into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Not gonna be doin' much with my arms behind my back, am I?” Billy just replied, like Steve was being a little slow on the uptake here.

“Scissors?” Steve asked, stepping forward to rest one knee on the bed… Billy shifted until he was turned away from Steve, pushed in close and held his arms behind his back.

“Fuck it.” Billy said, huffing impatiently.

“Something could go wrong.” Steve insisted, like he was scolding a kid. Billy just groaned, rolled his head and stuck a finger out towards the kitchen. Steve pushed away and followed Billy’s irritated directions, rummaged through a drawer until he found what appeared to be kitchen shears. Not ideal, but they would work in a pinch.

By the time he got back to the bed Billy was giving him an entirely unamused look over his shoulder. Steve just shrugged, took the guys wrists carefully in hand… pressing the soft, fluttering pulse points together behind his back. Billy slid his hands up, and wrapped his fingers around his forearms, locking himself in place.

Steve released him and pulled the rope out of it’s bundle… fished for the two ends and matched them, quickly followed the length down until he had the bite in his hand. He stuck a finger between Billy’s arms and urged them apart… wanted enough space in between so that Billy was comfortable. All Billy did was make a sound of annoyance as Steve adjusted him, and Steve felt mildly uncomfortable with the fact that Billy had told him he didn’t particularly care for being restrained…

“Okay?” Steve asked lightly, pushing the rope between Billy’s back and his arms… looping it one, two times over them.

“Fucking fine…” Billy grit out the words, and Steve could see the way his muscles were flexing. “Get on with it.”

Steve just shook his head… this was Billy’s job — and he's done it before. It was none of Steve’s business how Billy felt about it. He pulled the bite between Billy’s arms, cinching the two wraps that ran around him tighter, testing that he’d left at least two fingers worth of give… satisfied with that, he made a knot and pulled it tight. The loop end came to rest at the top of the knot, and the two free ends hung low.

He pulled the loose ends until the knot sat on top of Billy’s bound arms, pulling it up along his back and wrapping it around the front of his shoulders… over the front of his chest. Billy grunted at this, and Steve could feel his muscles tense up again. He smoothed his free hand up Billy’s bicep, a calming gesture — or at least he hoped it was.

Billy seemed to relax a little, and Steve took that as permission to continue. “You’ve done this before.” Billy said, as Steve brought the rope back on itself and looped it around the starting point… circled back to wrap around Billy’s shoulders and chest one more time.

“You got me.” Steve said with a little laugh, “My ex was uhh… well he was into it.”

“Were _you_ into it, pretty boy?” Billy asked, as Steve looped the rope around the center of the binding one more time… pulling a little at the restraints to make sure they were tight. He slid his hand between the rope and Billy’s back, to make sure they weren't _too_ tight… and began to loop the rope around to make a knot at the center of Billy’s back.

Steve figured if Billy could see the way his dick was starting to fill out, he probably wouldn’t have had to ask the question. “Mhm.” Steve just hummed, concentrating on the knotting. When he finished he pulled the end tight, leaned back a bit to survey his work. “Alright, test it… how does it feel?” he asked.

Billy just moved his arms a bit, he could slide his arms back and forth just enough… had a little wiggle room. “Feels like a _dream_ , baby.” he said with a sneer, turning his head over his shoulder and aiming it at Steve.

“I’m serious.” Steve huffed, annoyed at the way Billy wasn’t taking any of this seriously. He shuffled close again, and stuck his finger in Billy’s hand.

“Um, you wanna fuckin’ hold hands now?” Billy asked, clearly confused.

“ _Squeeze_ , you asshole.” Was all Steve said, totally exasperated now.

Billy complied, squeezed at Steve’s finger… the pressure felt good, Billy had one hell of a grip. Steve wrapped his other hand around the outside of Billy’s and asked him to release now… felt him push back against Steve’s grip with a satisfying amount of strength. He did the same with Billy’s other hand, and it was enough to convince him everything was still in working order.

“Just ‘cause I can’t whoop your ass right now, doesn't mean you can get smart with me.” Billy grumbled, when Steve pushed off the bed and stepped back. Billy managed to turn himself around without the use of his arms, watching as Steve walked away.

“Oh come on… you could _totally_ whoop my ass still.” Steve said, smiling as he flipped his camera to film mode.

“Forgetting something?” Billy asked, and Steve looked up wide eyed and confused. “Damn, would you look at those Bambi eyes.” Billy just laughed, and nodded his head down at the blindfold resting forgotten next to him.

“Right…” Steve said, flushing a little. Hurrying forward to grab the blindfold, and settled in real close to wrap it around Billy’s head… he tied it off and pulled lightly at it, like he wanted to make sure it wasn’t too tight over the bridge of Billy’s nose.

“Shit, you must suck at this bdsm thing.” Billy teased, snapping his teeth at Steve’s fingers as he pulled them away.

“I mean, the sadism part… never cared for it.” Steve said, getting some distance on Billy again. Pulling the camera up and… hesitating. “What’s next?” Steve asked, blinking a little. Taking a moment to really look at Billy.

Regretted it the second he did.

Because Billy looked _amazing_ like that. Arms tied behind his back, ropes pressing into his muscles just the slightest… black silk sash wrapped around his eyes, his curls tumbling over the sides, bottom lip pulled into his mouth as he worked at it with his teeth. He released it to speak, and Steve’s eyes were trained on the shine of spit left behind

“Well pretty boy… you got the controls.” He said, smirking.

Steve just fished into his back pocket and grabbed the little plastic controller… frowned down at the buttons. It seemed pretty complicated — the only vibrator he was ever familiar with was the one he had _unfortunately_ found in Nancy’s sock drawer, when he helped her move out of her parents place. He didn’t take the time to figure out how it worked, either.

So he just… pressed a button, to see what the hell it did. Billy made this strangled sound, and Steve’s head snapped up to watch the way he trembled… the way his dick kicked, swelling quickly.

“ _F-fuck_ , warn a guy.” Billy managed to get out, as soon as Steve let go of the button.

And Steve just stared for a while, before he realized he was supposed to be _filming_ this… then fumbled the camera up and hit record. “Sorry.” Steve said, grimacing over the fact that he was going to have to cut the beginning out now. “Ready?” He asked.

“Yeah well, _now_ I fucking am.” Billy snapped back, shifting a little on the bed.

Steve was tempted to just hit all the buttons at once, but he wasn’t even sure that would work. So he settled instead for hitting one at random, marveled at the way Billy’s muscles tensed… at the way his body jerked, the way his cock filled out, curving up to stand almost parallel to his stomach.

And really, maybe there was something to this vibrator thing… because Billy seemed to go from zero to utter bliss in a matter of seconds.

It took a bit of getting the hang of it, until Steve felt fully comfortable wielding both the camera and the controls… but after a lot fiddling he seemed to have it down. Got into the zone, focusing in on the scene filtered through the digital screen, playing back at him in perfect time.

Filmed Billy trembling, pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth... like maybe he thought the pain would keep him from cumming too quickly. So Steve let off on the button, gave Billy some time to get a hold of himself again... was rewarded with a frustrated grunt, and Steve's dick twitched in his jeans at the sound of it.

It didn't take him long to realize that different buttons did different patterns… he could tell from the way Billy reacted, the sounds he made… soft whimpering things… hitched breaths when it changed, from the way he tugged at his arm bindings when the vibration was too low.

Like he wanted to touch himself — move things along. When Steve let the vibrations stop for a second time, Billy _squirmed_... like he needed the friction. Sweat was running down his chest, and precum was drooling out the tip of his cock… it was flushed a deep red, looked _sore_.

And Billy was somehow still up on his knees, thighs shaking a little with the strain of it. Steve was impressed, but he kind of wanted to see them give out. So he kept him on the edge for ten minutes straight… watching Billy ride the shock-waves until his breathing was harsh, his moans pitching higher, singing out into the room… and then Steve would let off, watch as Billy made an irritated sound and came back down from the brink of climax.

Billy grit his teeth and flexed his muscles against the ropes… like it was taking all of his self control, not to give Steve a piece of his mind. There was a drop of sweat that Steve couldn’t take his eyes away from, and he watched as it dripped down from under Billy’s blindfold… trailed along the edge of his nose and into his mustache... watched as Billy’s pink tongue swept out over his lip to lick it away.

Steve was hard, too. Painfully so, his dick throbbing in his jeans… pushing against the zipper. The friction growing more and more uncomfortable as he moved to keep Billy in the shot. He turned the vibrator on again, just to watch Billy squirm one last time — gasping to catch his breath. Another little spurt of precum leaking out from the head of Billy's cock and running down his shaft. Steve switched it off again just as Billy’s hips started to jerk helplessly into the air.

“ _Steve!_ ” Billy snapped, finally losing his cool. And Steve swore under his breath, wondered how the hell he was gonna edit his name out without making it obvious. “You _f-f-ucking_ … had enough now, y-yeah?” Billy asked, panting… there was a trickle of drool running down the corner of his mouth and down to his chin, Steve wanted to lick it up.

Instead, he just pressed the button that seemed to get Billy really going, held it down for good this time… watched him lose his shit, watched his muscles spasm and his cock twitch… watched his mouth falling open in a wrecked moan… one that sounded suspiciously like Steve's _name_.

And then it all stopped, and Steve blinked down at the controller… at his finger still pressing the button down.

“FUCK- SHIT. YOU MOTHERFUCKING, COCKSUCKING… ASSHOLE!” Billy yelled, flopping back against the bed and writhing in the sheets. It looked a lot like a temper tantrum, a very horny temper tantrum.

“I think the batteries wore out, when’s the last time you changed these?” Steve asked, trying another button and still getting nothing.

“… I am… I am going to _kill_ you…” Billy hissed from the bed, still trying to find some sort of satisfying friction by rolling around. Steve just glanced up to watch him, wondered if he was going to start humping the bed like a desperate teenager.

“ _Steve_ … I need you, come on.” his tone switched from threatening to pleading so fast that Steve’s head spun with it.

“Huh?” Steve asked, like a moron.

“Baby… touch me, okay? Just… just come touch me, _please_.” Billy begged, voice dripping thick like honey... sex, and _danger_. Steve moved forward so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet, slid onto the bed with Billy… camera forgotten, tossed aside as soon as he was on the soft surface. He hooked a finger under the rope wrapped around Billy’s chest and pulled him up, flushing at the way Billy’s breath hitched.

He’d forgotten Billy couldn’t actually _see_ what he was doing. “Sorry, I’m right here.” Steve said softly, sliding Billy onto his thighs… carefully wrapping a hand around his swollen cock. Billy shuddered… dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder and fell apart. Mumbled nonsense into warm skin, mouth slicking Steve’s neck with spit as he rocked his hips helplessly up into that grip.

Steve just twisted his wrist, slid his hand up Billy’s length and thumbed at the slit of his cock… could _feel_ the way Billy was throbbing, felt him tense up… tremors running through him as he finally came, crying out against Steve’s neck.

Cum coated Steve’s knuckles, got all over his shirt and Billy's own bare chest… _soaked_ them. And Steve just stroked him through it, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him close… milked every last drop out, until Billy was sobbing into him — the tremors were fading away to a gentle shake.

“Fuck. That was amazing.” Steve said, running a thumb up Billy’s back… tracing the length of rope there. Billy just muttered some nonsense that Steve couldn’t pick out, teeth nipping softly at Steve’s neck.

Steve pushed him back, turned him until he was falling chest first into the bed. He made this soft, confused sound that had Steve wanting to coo comforting words at him… Thankfully Steve managed to choke it all down instead, and just hooked his finger under the blind fold and pulled it off… before setting to undo the knots at Billy’s back.

Billy shifted his head around, cheek pressed heavily into the sheets… watching out of the corner of his eye as Steve undid his restraints. “Fuck‘n batteries.” Billy slurred, and Steve just smiled. As soon as he got Billy free, the guy rolled over onto his back and rubbed at his arms.

“Shit… did we ruin the take?” Billy asked, like he’d suddenly just sobered enough to remember he was supposed to be doing a job.

“We got a lot, I can edit it to make it work.” Steve said, palming at the front of his jeans… he was so fucking hard it _hurt_ , and he didn’t think he could handle another case of blue balls thanks to Billy.

“Gonna gimme a show?” Billy asked, grinning and stretching out in the bed like he was just gonna watch.

“C-could give a guy a hand.” Steve said, breath hitching as he unzipped his pants and freed himself.

“Oh… so now _you_ want a hand, _you_ wanna cum?” Billy said, voice taking a dangerous turn. Steve wondered what part of him actually thought it was a good idea to tease Billy ‘ _Hurricane_ ’ Hargrove — like he wasn’t going to face some sort of retaliation for that.

Steve just screwed his eyes shut and tried to pretend Billy wasn't there, only to have fingers pinching painfully at the thin skin on the back of his hand… knocking his grip out of the way and replacing it. Steve kept his eyes shut and just listened listened… to the sound of his own breathing, mingling together with Billy's in the quiet apartment.

Billy moved his hand slowly, alternating pressure… tight, and then loose… tight and loose, pressed his thumb hard to the underside as he slid all the way up to the head. Steve sucked in a sharp breath, let out a moan.

“Like I could say no to you… _pretty boy_.” Billy said under his breath, shuffling closer… hooking his free hand around Steve’s neck and pressing their lips together, licking messily into Steve’s mouth as he stroked until Steve was moaning against Billy’s lips... bucking his hips and cumming into his hand.

They both flopped back into the bed, Billy landing on his back and Steve landing on his chest. There was just… _a lot_ of cum trapped between their stomachs, and Steve grimaced a little.

“Stay over.” Billy said, sighing.

“Sure.” Steve replied easily, keeping his eyes closed.

He didn’t wanna open them and find out none of this was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve: I’m not into sadism
> 
> Also Steve: Edges Billy until he loses his mind.
> 
> I am aware that this is slightly confusing. Steve is a confusing man. (definitely not my fault, nope.)
> 
> At any rate, my calling card is going to be pizza. Like I write pizza into things way too much. What the hell. I just really like pizza. Also I hope the description of like.. tying Billy wasn't complete garbage, cause like - shit like that is so hard to explain in text LOL.
> 
> ALSO ALSO... we may revisit blindfolds because I feel like I didn't utilize it to its fullest here, but I'm far too lazy to go take out all the references of it in this chapter so... we shall see.
> 
> Edit: 01/07/21 - okay I was going through and editing things, and completely forgotten i'd named his fucking camera Sandy... Why did i do this? Because I just pictured Steve opening the camera, seeing it in all its sleek black majesty and... thinking of Sandy in Grease, when she gets all bad-girled out. yeah. Not sure if that makes ME really gay, or him really gay. Either way. Now you know.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Finally_ conquered this chapter… Someone get me a championship belt because these past couple weeks have been a **fight**.

Soft.

Really, that was the only thought rolling through Steve’s head when he began to stir, eyes still shut tight against the sun streaming in through his windows… Which was strange, considering Steve usually had the morning light completely blocked out by curtains.

But he must have left them open last night... he wasn’t about to get up and remedy that though, because his bed had become _soft_ overnight. A strange phenomena that he was afraid to challenge. Because it was so damn _cozy_ , and he hadn’t felt this kind of bliss in the morning in such a long time.

Usually he woke feeling like garbage, with an alarm screeching at him to get up, _get going_. He tried to remember if it was the weekend… it must have been, since that alarm was kindly absent. And something smelled _amazing_ , like the beach, like salt and the ocean tide… with just a hint of something _sweet_. Steve shuffled into it, breathed in deep — and the thing _hummed_.

His brow furrowed and he really had to think about that for a minute, because as far as he was aware... things in his apartment, in his _bed_ , didn’t hum. They also didn't wrap their arms around him and pull him in close... plaster him to a slightly crusty and firm surface.

Steve opened his eyes and blinked away the sleep, only to get a face full of perfectly tanned pecs and some residual drying cum.

“ _Oh…_ ” Steve said, wrinkling his nose. The ocean smelled like Billy’s cum… or Billy’s cum smelled like the ocean. Either way, he really didn’t need to know that.

“Morning princess, wanna lick me clean?” Billy asked, voice rumbling in his chest and sounding all too sexy for what he was actually proposing.

“Gonna pass on that one.” Steve replied easily, pushing a little at Billy. He let Steve go without much fight, and Steve rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He considered getting out of bed for all of five seconds… but it was just so _comfortable_ , nothing like the slightly lumpy mattress back at his apartment. He was _sinking_ into it, silk sheets caressing his skin like a soft kiss.

Besides, getting up meant facing reality… and he had absolutely no idea what to expect from that. So he just closed his eyes and tried to drift back into that perfect, drowsy headspace that encouraged every single problem in life to just, not _matter_ so much.

He felt a sudden impact to his nose, and there was a quick to follow sharp pain that left a stinging in its wake. Flinching, his eyes flew open to glare at Billy… who had his hand posed to flick Steve’s nose for a second time.

“Want me to suck you off?” Billy asked, licking at his upper lip.

“Go back to sleep.” Steve demanded, closing his eyes again and pretending there wasn’t a noticeable flush currently creeping up to color his cheeks. Billy huffed dramatically, and Steve could feel the weight of him flopping back in bed, shaking the entire mattress.

Steve earned himself about three minutes of peace, before Billy was rolling over and sliding a hand up under his shirt. He grimaced a bit, when Billy started to peel it away from where it had stuck to his skin.

And okay, sleep was great, _fantastic_ … he wanted it. But he _needed_ a shower… his eyes slid open again to find Billy hovering over him, watching his face — two bright blue pools of sparkling light staring back down at him.

“Offers still on the table.” Billy just said, a sly grin breaking onto his face. Like he was pleased to have Steve’s focus back on him, like he was hungry for it. Steve wondered how the hell someone like Billy could still crave attention, with the way the spotlight was on him almost constantly. Fingers slid Steve’s shirt higher, rucking it up until the fabric was bunched under his chin, exposing his chest.

Really he should have said no, he should have stopped this thing until they had the chance to _talk_ … But apparently, Steve’s dick woke up faster than his brain did — and it already had an answer, his hips lifting up off the mattress to press his swelling cock into Billy’s thigh.

Steve’s breath hitched, hands grabbing at Billy’s biceps and holding on, grounded by how strong those muscles felt. “ _Use your words, pretty boy._ ” Billy whispered, leaning in… braced by his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of Steve now, dipping them down… Steve felt like he was about to _drown_.

“Yeah, okay… how does 'why don’t you put that mouth to good use' sound?” Steve replied, raising a brow and a hand simultaneously… gripping Billy’s chin and _squeezing_ , had to fight back a laugh at the way Billy’s full lips pushed together like a fish.

Ended up laughing anyway, at the indignant expression that flitted across Billy’s face, the pull of his brows and the wrinkle of skin above his nose as he swatted that hand away... he caught the both of them and pressed Steve’s slender wrists into the mattress, a sharp look reflecting in his eyes as he licked his lips.

“Careful, I eat _fuckers_ like you for breakfast.” Billy snarled, a playful sense of danger rumbling in his tone… the sound shooting right to Steve’s dick and leaving him gasping.

“Is that a promise?” Steve managed to get out, tensing in anticipation as Billy released his wrists and slowly slid down his body, as he hooked burning hot fingertips under the waistband of Steve’s briefs and paused… ran a thumb over the exposed skin there, _teasing_ , brushing at the wispy trail of hair leading under the band.

Then he was grabbing Steve’s hips and pulling him down to the edge of the bed, legs bent at the knees and hanging over the edge. Billy settled on the floor in between them, shoving them open and leaning over him. Steve was already painfully hard, cock straining against the tight knit cotton weave… a damp spot making the fabric feel too rough, a friction just this side of wrong as it rubbed against the tip.

“I don’t make promises...” The words barely drifted in through the mental fog in Steve’s head as Billy pressed his nose right into the trapped length of Steve’s cock… and breathed in _deep_.

Filled his lungs with the thick scent, pressed an open mouth to fabric and _licked_ … wetting it even more, nuzzled in like Steve’s dick was _home_ — and he’d been away too long. Steve’s hands fisted into the silk sheets on either side of his head, hips kicking up, only to have Billy’s heavy palm pushing him back down.

He returned his attention to Steve’s waistband… the elastic catching and pulling at the tip of his dick as Billy tugged them down quickly. Steve breathed out a sharp whine into the quiet apartment, wincing at the all too cruel friction, cock bouncing back against his abdomen and hitting the taut skin there with an audible slap.

Billy’s eyes flicked up to capture Steve’s, staring up at him through thick blonde lashes… an arrogant little quirk to his smile as he saw Steve staring right back… Looking like a _complete_ mess, flush and sweating already, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Relax, pretty boy... I’ve got you.” Billy said, that smile only growing in its cockiness. And really, it probably shouldn’t have worked… but Steve _did_ relax, the tension slowly melting away from his muscles as he let himself sink back into the bed, his breathing slowly coming back down. And he tried to just enjoy the ride…

Billy dropped his gaze again, dragged it up the length of Steve’s cock… made this exaggerated sound of _awe_ , as if he’d never seen something quite so impressive. Steve was about to open his mouth and point out the fact that he was _well_ aware of Billy’s ability to fake things… except Billy's lips parted wide, and he lazily pressed the flat of his tongue to the underside of Steve’s cock.

Steve's hips jerked up into the touch, and he forgot whatever he was going to say. He inhaled sharply instead, turning the breath into a moan as he let it back out. Billy just rolled his tongue up, let it flick off the tip. Curled his fingers around the base… pulling it down until it was standing straight up in the air.

He moved his fingers aside just enough to press a gentle kiss to velvety soft skin at the base, before placing another one higher… trailed kisses all the way up the shaft, finishing by sucking lightly at the skin nestled under the head.

Every touch was careful, planned… feather soft, hitting Steve in such a different way than their usual hurried, desperate touches did. The tease of Billy’s lips, and then his _tongue_ … slowly rolling over the tip of Steve’s cock, dipping into the slit and licking away a pearl of precum… only to pull away again.

Steve whimpered, instantly embarrassed at the sound of it. Flushed and bit down on his bottom lip to try and keep any more pathetic noises from slipping out. Billy just laughed, warm breath ghosting across Steve’s sensitive skin…

“I-is this... payback, f-for last night?” Steve managed to ask, breath hitching as Billy rubbed a thumb along the swollen vein running along the underside of his cock.

“I would _never_.” Billy teased, the grin on his face making it far less convincing than it would have been otherwise.

“I just…” His tongue flicked out, swirled around the head of Steve’s cock before pulling back. “...want you…” he tilted his head and licked sloppily down the side, leaving a shiny trail of saliva behind. “...to feel…” Slid his hand up and _squeezed_ , made enough room for him to dip down and take one of Steve’s balls into his mouth, rolled it over his tongue.

Steve groaned, toes curling and straining to keep his thighs from closing around Billy’s head. He pulled off with an obscene smack of his lips, a tiny strand of spit connecting from the bottom one to Steve’s balls. “Good.” Billy finished, and Steve had a hard time remembering what he had been saying.

“ _Good…_ mhm.” Steve murmured, eyes glazed over — watching hazily as Billy leaned in and _finally_ pressed those soft, plush lips to the crown… let them part just enough for the head to slip in.

Steve let out a sharp cry, breathy and harsh… hands flying out thoughtlessly to press at Billy’s head, to try and urge him further down. Instead he pulled off, snapped at Steve “Hands up!” demanding, a tone that implied he got his way often... or more like, that he got his way or _else_. Steve complied, untangled his fingers from Billy’s soft curls and let his hands fall heavily against the mattress above his head.

And Billy rewarded him for his obedience.

He took Steve all the way down, mouth stretching wide around him… and Steve gripped the sheets above his head, arched his back, his elbows jutting up into the air as he gave a ragged moan — breathless and desperate. Billy rubbed a soothing pattern into sharp hipbones with his thumb as Steve’s cock hit the back of his throat.

Bright blue eyes flicked up to lock with Steve’s... pupils blown wide, watching him. Billy didn’t look so smug anymore, with his lips wrapped around Steve's cock — actually, if he didn’t know any better, he might think that Billy looked… _captivated_.

Like he was trying to read Steve... trying to soak up every reaction, quickly using whatever he learned to elicit _more_. Preening at every sound that slipped from Steve's lips, every involuntary jerk of the hips. And in that moment he realized how much Billy had meant those words, ‘ _I just want you to feel good._ ’ like it was a challenge, like the win condition was tongue-fucking Steve into a useless puddle of brain dead nothingness.

And it was _working_.

Billy was rolling his tongue slowly, sliding it along the underside of Steve’s cock… working it as best he could under the heavy weight. Hollowing his cheeks and bobbing up and down, painfully slow… only to pull off again and leave Steve whimpering, desperate for that skilled mouth… for that perfect, wet heat to return.

“ _Billy…_ ” He moaned the name, voice crackling with lust. “C’mon, _please…_ ” Steve angled his hips up as he spoke, the tip of his cock pressing into those full lips as he did. Billy just grinned sharply, bared his teeth and ran them gently over the head. Steve shivered, the tremor running through his whole body… from the tips of his fingers, through his spine and to his toes.

“What if I want to keep you here like this forever?” Billy asked, eyes full of mischief — even with those big black pupils eating away at his bright blue irises.

Steve just laughed, he _had_ to — it was so ridiculous. Billy’s grin immediately fell into a frown. “I think we might get a bit bored eventually.” Steve tried to explain. His cock was still jutting up, painfully hard… resting lightly against Billy’s chin as they stared each other down.

“Oh yeah? I’ll show _you_ bored-” Billy snapped, like his pride was in question. Steve opened his mouth to say he didn’t mean it like that, but Billy was swallowing him down in a single smooth movement… and the noise that left Steve’s lips was _definitely_ not words.

Billy relaxed his throat, eyes never leaving from where they were trained on Steve… a fire reflecting in them. And Billy took him in even _deeper_ , and he choked on a moan as the head of his cock slipped down Billy’s throat… tight heat all around him, _squeezing_ as Billy tried to swallow around him.

“H-holy shit.” Steve stammered out, it took all his self control not to rock his hips up into that perfect mouth. Billy just hummed around him, and Steve could _feel_ it vibrating. Billy pulled back just enough so that he could slide back down... pressed his face into Steve’s crotch, nestled his nose into the coarse hair there and breathed in.

Steve lost any control he had left, started babbling praise… forgot all direction and dropped his hands to tangle them into Billy’s hair again. “ _So good_ , fuck you’re good- Billy, I- I’m not gonna last-” his breath hitched as he spoke, soft little sounds of pleasure breaking up the words.

Billy just groaned, eyes rolling back... and then he was moving again, setting the perfect pace. Taking Steve so deep each time, spit drooling out the corner of his mouth and coating Steve’s cock, dripping down his balls.

Steve’s grip in those golden curls tightened carelessly, enough to _hurt_. Tugged, finally allowing himself to thrust into Billy's mouth... his own lips falling open around a wrecked moan. The sound ringing through the empty apartment, and Billy’s fingers dug into Steve’s hip bones, the pain of it spinning away and melting together with the pleasure wracking him… it all left him quaking, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as he emptied deep into Billy’s throat.

Billy swallowed, effortlessly took all of it... coaxing every last drop out with his tongue. Steve flopped bonelessly against the bed, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, bangs sticking to his forehead, a dull ache in his calf muscles from the way he had tensed them. Billy just mouthed at Steve’s softening cock, licking at sensitive skin until Steve squirmed under him, tugged him off by the curls.

“ _C’mere…_ ” Steve murmured, leading Billy forward by the hair until he was climbing back up onto the bed and pressing his own thick arousal into Steve’s thigh… swinging his legs over and straddling either side of Steve’s stomach.

Steve’s hands fell away from Billy’s hair and took up on his hips instead, thumbs rubbing gentle little circles into the dimples just above his ass. His cock was so flushed and swollen it looked _sore_ , and Billy's hand quickly flew to it — wrapping around and giving himself a slow stroke, sighing in relief at the touch.

Steve pulled one of his hands back and spit into it, blue eyes tracking his movement the whole time... watching as he slid that hand back around Billy's hips and dipped slick fingers down into the curve of his ass. A breathy whine punched out of his lungs as Steve pressed one carefully in, fingering at the tight muscle and stretching it open.

Billy sat back on it, urging Steve deeper — breathing heavy as the hand wrapped around his cock sped up, precum oozing out and dripping down over his knuckles. “ _Steve…_ ” He breathed the name out, almost a hiss as Steve added a second finger and crooked them sharply… found that sweet spot and rubbed, alternating pressure until Billy’s breath was hitching with each press of Steve’s fingers.

A heavy palm slapped down on Steve’s chest, fingers splaying wide to keep himself upright. Billy rocked his hips, driving himself down on Steve’s fingers, eyes screwing shut and lips parting around a rough moan. Steve couldn’t help but marvel at the sound of it, at the way Billy’s voice was still raw from having Steve's cock pushed down the back of his throat…

And he got a little lost in it, staring up at Billy above him… at the sweat glistening on his chest as he worked himself down onto Steve’s fingers, at the hazy, glazed over look in his eyes as he opened them and found Steve’s… stared back, brows pulling into a little frown.

Like he was suddenly _worried_ about something… “ _You okay?_ ” Steve asked softly, found himself wanting to reach out and touch Billy’s face — he cursed the distance between them, and settled instead for curling his fingers into the dip of his spine. Billy just flinched at the words, a shudder running through him… choking on a moan, _hiccuping_ with it... hips stuttering as he came, as he shot onto Steve’s chest. A string of cum landing over the hand still planted firmly over Steve's pecs to hold himself up… a second hitting Steve’s chin and up onto his bottom lip.

Steve licked at it without a second thought, the taste flooding his mouth as Billy just crumpled forward and pressed his face into the crook of Steve’s neck… fingers still buried deep inside of him.

“Okay?” Steve tried again, slowly pulling free from that tight heat. Billy just hummed in agreement, flicked his tongue lightly at Steve’s ear. Nibbled at the lobe with sharp teeth, and Steve had to squirm under Billy as his mustache tickled at the sensitive skin there. “ _Hey!_ Cut it out!” he managed to get out in between breathy laughter, shoving weakly at Billy’s chest.

Billy just pulled away, sat up on Steve’s stomach again with a pleased grin splitting his face, eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Fuck… I’m disgusting.” Steve said, panting to catch his breath.

“ _Filthy._ ” Billy concurred, voice still husky. “But It’s my place... so I get the shower first.” He said, reaching out and twisting Steve’s left nipple sharply before shoving back off and making his way towards the bathroom.

“ _Ow_ \- fuck.” Steve muttered pathetically, rubbing gingerly at his sore tit.

* * *

The sound of the shower turning on filled the room, Billy having disappeared behind some mysterious door that Steve now knew to be the bathroom. The realization that he had to pee hitting him the _second_ he heard running water.

He groaned and grabbed a corner of Billy’s fancy silk sheets and wiped the cum off his chest and chin. Then rolled over in the bed and used his post-orgasm weak arms to heave himself up, scooting to the edge and hanging his legs over… sighing and scrubbing at his face with the heel of his palm.

‘ _Up ‘n attem!_ ’ The phrase his father used to fire at him on those mornings when Steve had stumbled still drowsy into the kitchen of his childhood home… when his father had actually still been _around_ for mornings. He wasn't exactly sure why he thought of that, but he tried to shake it from his head.

If his father saw him now, vaguely detached and meaningless words of encouragement would probably be the _last_ thing to spill out of his mouth.

Steve’s briefs were still tangled around his thighs so he quickly sorted them out and pulled them back up, tucking himself in as he did. Then he searched through the tangle of sheets for his glasses, glad to find them unbroken. It was about then, that he remembered the camera… and that he had discarded _that_ somewhere on the bed last night too. Where it was now _concerningly_ missing from, as he swung his head around looking for it.

He cursed quietly to himself, switching to searching on the floor around the bed... and sucked in a breath, wincing when he found it knocked onto the floor… he grabbed it and carefully inspected it for damages, breathing back out a sigh of relief when the thing seemed to turn on without any issues.

Steve found his jeans down there too, and slipped back into them _—_ doing a little one legged hop to get them up while standing, he _nearly_ keeled over and marked up Billy’s gorgeous mahogany floor with his face. When he was finally somewhat decent, he decided to idly watch back the footage back from last night, taking a mental timestamp of the places he needed to edit as he climbed the spiral staircase to the loft…

He figured Billy wouldn’t mind lending him another shirt, even if he hadn't quite managed to return the first one yet. Steve passed up the drawer he’d gone through last time and went in search of wherever Billy had more stuff like what he’d worn last night stashed away… and he let out a little sound of triumph when he uncovered them at the bottommost drawer, along with several pairs of sweatpants

Steve had uncovered the _motherload_ of band shirts… and not a single one, that Steve recognized… that was, until he had dug his way to the bottom of the bottom and uncovered a single, lonely Donna Summer’s ‘Bad Girls’ shirt, worn thin and dotted with little holes along the collar.

With a huge grin on his face, Steve shut the drawer and slipped the shirt over his head. He honestly couldn’t wait to see Billy’s face, kind of couldn't wait to make fun of him for this _either_. Had half a mind to keep looking for his missing Scoops hat, but he could hear the water turning off… and only a few moments later the sound of the bathroom door opening.

"Why do you have two beds?" Steve asked, hanging over the edge of the loft and blinking down at — he was damp, still dripping from the shower and had an impossibly fluffy towel wrapped around his waist.

Billy glanced up at him, shaking wet bangs out of his face and frowning. Steve just smiled wide, watching the way Billy’s eyes trailed down to take in Donna Summer’s face staring back at him. He seemed determined to ignore that, and started making his way up the stairs in silence — joining Steve on the second floor and heading towards the dresser. "Well, those sheets aren’t always all that _clean_ after a night of work..." Billy said slowly, rolling his neck and lazily tossing a pointed look over his shoulder. “That’s not mine.” he added.

Steve just snorted, adjusted the t-shirt he'd stolen from Billy — the fit was loose, Billy's shoulders were much broader than his own… it definitely _seemed_ like it was Billy’s shirt. "Didn't seem to bother you last night." Steve said instead, chasing the thread of their previous conversation and letting the shirt matter drop. _For now._ He leaned back against the railing... testing his weight against it cautiously.

Billy paused with his own shirt pulled half way on... like he was debating something. Choosing his next words carefully, it made Steve feel nervous all of a sudden.

"Sometimes I just wanna feel... normal." He said, dropping the towel around his waist and giving Steve a full view of his ass. Billy dug out a pair of pants and pulled them on... struggling a bit with how tight they were. Steve just blinked a little as he stared that perfect ass squeezing into them, at the way Billy hadn't bothered to put any underwear on.

"Sure... _normal_." Steve echoed, tearing his eyes away from Billy's ass to really take in his surroundings. A simple dresser, a modest bed stuffed into the corner with a messy comforter piled on top... a tiny side table with a shelf underneath, a few books piled on their side. It was like stepping into a different world, the complete opposite of the ostentatious apartment below.

Billy just spun around on his heel and got up close and personal with Steve, pressing his back into the railing and collecting the slightly stiff print of Donna Summer’s face into his fingertips… tugging gently. “Showers _free_ … you smell like hell.” He pulled back, patting Steve’s cheek with a warm open palm, before returning to the dresser to fish out a pair of socks.

Steve just stood there for a second flushing in embarrassment, before stammering out a "R-right..." and hurrying down the spiral stairs only to fling himself into the bathroom. There was no _way_ he was dropping this Donna Summer thing now. He had about two seconds to plot his revenge, before he glanced up and was immediately thrown by the massive Jacuzzi tub stuffed into the corner of the bathroom.

“ _Seriously…?_ ” He muttered to himself, turning to take in the rest of the room… a long set of glaringly white marble countertops resting on top of pitch black counters… any remaining exposed wall covered by one giant mirror. Hair products were scattered all over the counters, some makeup, a couple rubbers — unopened — which Steve immediately frowned at.

He ignored all of that to make his way to the toilet, startling a little when the seat rose without him even having to touch it. He waited for a minute… like maybe the ring was gonna lift on its own too, reaching down to flick it up when it became clear that it _wouldn't_. Steve whipped himself out to do his business, sighing in relief.

The relief lasted about as long as it took him to realize there were… _far_ more buttons than any toilet should be allowed to have. He shook himself off and tucked back in, only to lean down and stare at the buttons. No words, just little pictures that honestly did barely anything to help him figure out what the hell any of them were for… so he decided the best course of action was to just, start hitting things randomly and with abandon.

The first button he hit lit up the seat in neon blue LED, because of _course_ it did. The second, seemed to do absolutely nothing, other than turn a little light under the button to red… he hit it again and the light flicked off. The third button he hit was just over all, a _fatal_ mistake.

A jet of water sprayed straight out of the back of the toilet rim and soaked down the front of his jeans and the bottom half of Donna Summer’s face. “Oh! FUCK- SHIT… _stopstopstop_!” Steve tried to block the stream with his hands, only succeeding in spraying water all over the bathroom instead. He finally fumbled for the button, hitting it again and the stream cut off.

He stood there for a moment completely confused, dripping wet and surveying the slight destruction he had caused. There was a soft, hesitant knock at the door — and Billy’s voice filtered in, muffled by the wood separating them. “You good in there?”

“Oh just… just _fine_ , really.” Steve answered quickly, voice pitching a little higher than normal. Still, it must have been convincing enough because Billy didn’t bust into the bathroom to see for himself how Steve had managed to mess up taking a simple piss. He quickly collected a towel from the nearest rack and mopped the water from the walls, and surrounding floor.

Steve hung the towel back up when he was satisfied, and stripped out of his now damp jeans and shirt… tossing them onto the marble counter tops and wandering behind a partition, one that led to a massive open shower. Not for the first time, Steve wondered how much money Billy actually spent on this place.

Luckily, the shower was much easier to figure out than the toilet — and Steve easily got the water to a comfortable temperature, stepped under the spray and let it hit his face, water rolling down his chest and washing away all the sweat and grime from the last fifteen hours.

He wasn’t quite sure how long he spent just standing under the stream, blissed out. But then his brain kicked in, and not so subtly reminded him that he was sleeping with his _employer_. And even if Steve ignored whatever unhealthy power dynamics that alone brought forth… they’d still never even talked about what any of this meant.

Steve could handle casual, he’d done it before… even if he preferred something a little more meaningful. But he had a feeling Billy wasn’t going to make it that simple, that he was liable to avoid the question and play it off. Still, Steve felt the need to press the subject… and he resolved to do so before he took his leave.

He pushed those thoughts away and tried to focus on the task at hand, collecting a little black bar of soap and scrubbing himself with it… finished up and reached for the shampoo. It smelled amazing, deep and woodsy — a scent that he quickly realized was familiar to him, one he’d caught a whiff of whenever Billy was close enough. He flushed a little, when he thought about how he was probably going to be carrying that scent with him all day now.

After filling his palm and sudsing up his hair, he quickly rinsed and turned the water off… stepping out into the bathroom and grabbing one of the massively fluffy towels and doing the best he could with his hair. His pants were still tragically damp, but his underwear and Donna Summer weren’t so bad once he scrubbed them with a dry corner of his towel… so he slipped into both, and wandered back out into the kitchen.

He was immediately struck with the mouthwatering smell of bacon — his stomach instantly reminding him that it existed by rumbling heartily. He came around the corner to find Billy standing at the stove, stirring what appeared to be scrambled eggs with a cigarette held limply between his lips...

“You’re allowed to smoke in here?” Steve asked, coming up to the kitchen counter and leaning on it. He realized it was a stupid question by the raised brow Billy shot at him as he cocked a hip and turned to look at Steve.

“It’s my fuckin’ place I can do what I want.” Billy murmured around the filter, cigarette dancing and dropping ash on the fancy tile floor as he spoke. And Steve figured that was probably true, that Billy ‘ _Hurricane_ ’ Hargrove did whatever he wanted… rental agreements be damned. Billy paused as he seemed to take in Steve’s lack of pants, brow raising impossibly higher.

“ _Don’t_ ask.” Steve warned, and Billy just snorted and turned back to the pan of eggs.

“You should go pants-less all the time, show off those milky white thighs.” Billy said, a sly smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay new rule: no making fun of me on weekends.” Steve complained, despite being fully aware that the guy was never going to agree to those terms. He slid onto one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen island, staring suspiciously down at the porcelain plate set out in front of him… there were three slices of bacon resting on it, it all seemed so strangely _normal_.

“It’s Friday.” Billy simply replied, grabbing up the pan of eggs and sliding over to the island and scraping a portion onto Steve’s plate… it looked fluffy, and amazing and…

“Wait, it's Friday?” Steve suddenly asked, watching as Billy piled some eggs onto his own plate.

“So?” Billy asked, sounding completely uninterested.

“ _So_ \- I’m supposed to be at work!” Steve shouted, starting to raise up out of his chair.

“Whatever, I’ll pay you for it.” Billy said casually, grabbing Steve’s shoulder and shoving him back down…

“That’s not the point, I’ll get fired!” Steve pointed out, ass a little sore from how quickly Billy had pushed him back down… it was easy to forget how _strong_ the guy was.

“Then… I'll pay you for every day.” Billy said, shrugging. Steve’s jaw dropped a little, and he watched as Billy returned the pan to the stove… sauntered over to his own chair and slid in. “Besides, you should be focused on your job working for _me_ … not some stupid ice cream place.” He continued, frowning a little before stuffing some eggs into his mouth.

If Steve didn’t know any better, he might think Billy was _jealous_.

He probably would have said something about that, if he hadn't just taken a bite out of the most melt in your mouth… fluffy… eggs scrambled to _perfection_. Steve groaned into the mouthful, a sound embarrassingly reminiscent of that morning. Billy side eyed him, looking pleased.

“ _Jesus..._ What did you _do_ to these?” Steve asked through a heavenly mouthful. Billy just breathed out a warm laugh, rumbling up out of his chest and making Steve feel slightly hot under the collar.

“It’s nothing, just a little butter and some creme fraiche.” Billy said casually.

“Oh well la-dee-da just some fucking creme fraiche then, god that's the most pretentious thing I’ve ever heard… _fuck this is good_.” Steve muttered darkly, highly offended that he liked these stupid eggs as much as he did. Billy just turned to stare at him like he was considering tackling Steve straight to the floor and fucking him then and there.

A good plan, really. Steve wondered if he could get away with taking the plate of eggs with him.

Just as Steve was not so subtly slipping his fingers under his plate, ready to hold on like his life depended it… Billy’s ass vibrated — snapping him out of his predator stare. His hand slipped around to pull a phone out of his pocket, swiping up to unlock it and frowning down at it.

“...Fuck.” Billy growled.

“What?” Steve asked, finishing his eggs and taking a bite from a piece of bacon... finding himself slightly disappointed by the fact that it seemed to be perfectly average.

“I was supposed to go to this party tonight… some industry thing.” Billy said, sighing as he spoke — like it was just one big chore, like Steve wasn’t fully aware of how much Billy ‘Hurricane’ Hargrove liked partying. “I’d skip it but it’s better for my image if I show.” He finished, and it sounded like an excuse.

‘ _I’d say no, but I’d rather be there._ ’ Steve filled in the blanks, glanced up from breakfast to blink at Billy. “Okay… I’ll get my stuff packed.”

Billy just watched Steve as pushed out of the chair, and started wandering around the apartment to collect his things… damp jeans out of the bathroom... phone from where it had sunk into the sheets of Billy’s bed. “You could come with me.” Billy finally said, voice cutting into the thick silence that had filled the air around them.

Steve froze where he was, crawling over Billy’s bed… one arm stretched out and pulling his phone out of the tangle of silk. “Uh… I’m not sure — I don’t… what would I wear?” Steve finally settled on the one thing to say that didn’t feel like a knife to the throat. Billy just laughed, a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m sure I have something you could pull off.” Billy offered, leaning back against the kitchen counters.

Waiting.

As if there were actually any chance in the _world_ that someone like Steve might be about to turn him down. The mere thought of that had Steve’s head spinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write a lot of blowjobs… I am aware of this. _I just really love blowjobs…_
> 
> Also, this one was particularly fun because usually I write Billy goin' in like he’s _starved_ … But like, lazy-I-wanna-take-care-of-you mood was just 👌 _the vibeeeee_.


	5. Out of Focus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this chapter took so long… and it TOOK ME FOREVER TO REPLY TO COMMENTS… I’m not gonna lie, I'm just a mess lately LOL.
> 
> Still, I love every single comment I get very much and will do better 💗
> 
> (May have changed some of the casting last minute in this thing... HOPEFULLY GOT THE NAMES ALL SWITCHED OVER PROPERLY BUT, lemme know if there's a weird slip up~)

“Okay, when you said you had something for me…” Steve said, frowning down as Billy manhandled his hips and tucked the edges of the now perfectly dry Donna Summer shirt into pants... pants that were just a little too short, and just a little too _tight_ for Steve. “I thought maybe you meant something cool.”

“This _is_ cool, you’re like the twink to end all twinks.” Billy said, a smug grin on his face… leaning up to lick playfully at the tip of Steve’s nose. He definitely wasn't charmed by that, _not. one. bit._

“Not a twink…” Steve muttered, the words sounding terribly unconvincing with the way they were accompanied by bright red cheeks.

“I like you in this,” Billy insisted, sliding his hands around to grab Steve’s ass and tug him close… pressing their chests together. “Not letting you change…” he murmured, dropping his face to nip at Steve’s neck.

“I’m telling everyone it's your shirt.” Steve countered, trying not to moan when Billy sucked lightly at his pulse point.

“ _No ones gonna believe you…_ ” Billy whispered, lips brushing softly against damp skin. Steve hated how he was probably right about that...

Earlier that day, after Billy had gotten that text message about the party... he had disappeared into the bathroom for _three hours_ to get ready. He’d actually set Steve up with a laptop before he went in, saying something along the lines of ‘Get some work done.’ Steve wasn’t sure if it was a suggestion or an order.

“I don’t have any editing software with me…” Steve had protested while Billy took spiral steps two at a time in his ascent to the loft.

“That probably has something on it, it belonged to the last guy.” Billy replied with a casual shrug, before disappearing from view.

“You should _probably_ return it then.” Steve said, rolling his eyes — knowing full well how expensive editing software was. He was still using the free shit he’d gotten access to during school, and it wasn’t exactly the most up-to date anymore.

“Why would I do that, when I bought it off him?” Billy replied, a smug edge to his tone.

“ _What the hell…_ ” Steve muttered, watching as Billy came back down the stairs with some clothing tucked into his arms. “You just see someone’s stuff… and then what, think ‘ _I'm gonna buy that_ ’… then you do?” Steve asked, wondering what kind of person just randomly sold off their personal effects just because someone else wanted them.

“Yeah, so what?” Billy asked, pausing to give Steve a pointed look. He couldn't help but wonder if that was what was happening to him right now, if Billy was just... _buying what he wanted_.

He’d shaken the thought from his head at the time, because thinking like that only brought on trouble. And he'd turned instead to focus on his work, linking up the camera and transferring the footage… unable to keep down the tiny thrill that ran through him when he found cutting edge editing software installed on the laptop.

Billy had made a frustrated sound, Steve knew he probably didn’t appreciate being ignored… but he _also_ knew if he opened his mouth after that he’d just say something stupid. The bathroom door closed with a bang, and Steve had glanced up for a moment, before turning back to the computer screen.

He opened that shiny copy of the latest version of Premier and started reviewing the footage, volume turned low… and made a note of bringing a pair of headphones the next time they did this. Then found himself regretting _that_ train of thought almost as much as the last, because he was already assuming there was going to _be_ a ‘next time’...

“You’re so fucked, so fucked…” Steve had muttered, trying not to flush at the sound of a digital Billy moaning into the silent apartment from tinny laptop speakers. If he’d gotten a half-chub while editing the footage, well that was between him and no one else.

It took Billy forever to finish in the bathroom, and Steve couldn't help but wonder if part of it was just revenge for never answering that question.

By the time he was finally stepping out of the bathroom and into the open concept living area… Steve was actually finished editing, and he had one shiny porno video all squeaky clean and ready for upload — sans the accidental utterance of anyone's particular name that _might_ have happened in the heat of the moment.

And Billy was tossing a pair of jeans at Steve’s face, he managed to catch them before they wrapped around his head. He was about to complain about Billy’s new habit for just launching things at him unannounced… when his words got stopped up and lodged in his throat.

Because... he’d _seen_ Billy undressed, almost every time they had been around each other he was either naked or halfway there. But Steve hadn’t seen Billy dressed _up_ , and really… nothing could have prepared him for how _good_ the guy looked.

Thick, golden curls, falling around his face to frame it… and Steve knew Billy had natural curls, saw the way his hair sprang back up against the water trying to weigh it down after his shower, but it was so much more when he put the effort in to get them _perfect_ like this.

Blue eyes stood out against a thin line of black, so subtle he probably wouldn’t have noticed the difference if he hadn’t just spent all morning staring into those eyes with nothing there. A red tint to those lips that Steve knew had been applied meticulously - sheer enough to look like blood drawn to the surface, like the color had been kissed into them.

Shirt and jeans so tight they left nothing to the imagination, a stark black leather jacket thrown over the top. It looked old, worn and well loved… he wanted to get his fingers on it, feel how _soft_ it probably was.

“Why don’t you take a picture?” Billy’s voice cut into Steve’s head, drawing him out of the awe he’d slipped into.

“Sure.” Steve said, smiling and grabbing the camera and bringing it up to snap a quick photo of Billy — because he _could_.

Billy just frowned. “I wasn’t being serious.” He grumbled, watching as Steve stood and tried to slip into the jeans that had been chucked at his face.

“Fuck, these are so _tight_ \- are these even yours?” Steve asked, struggling to get into them. He had the longer legs, but Billy’s thighs were thick, muscular. There was no way he wouldn’t have been able to get into them easily if they were Billy’s.

“Don’t think so.” Billy said casually, shrugging. He stepped forward to grab at Steve’s hips, helped pull them up… tugged at the front and jerked Steve forward as he zipped and buttoned them for him. “They probably belong to Max.” Billy seemed to slip into those words by accident, shocking himself that he’d said them at all.

“Whose he?” Steve frowned, he definitely wasn’t jealous. That feeling in the pit of his stomach was probably indigestion.

Billy just laughed, a lot harder than Steve thought was warranted. “Wouldn’t _you_ like to know.” was all Billy said, winking at him.

That _was_ why he’d asked, Steve thought bitterly. And then Billy had to go and get all cute about the t-shirt, lick at Steve's nose and flirt with him... and made him forget all about being annoyed...

By the time they were both ready, it was an hour until they were supposed to be there. Steve had done the best he could with his hair, fiddling with it and trying to use Billy’s products to the best of his abilities. The majority of his curl enhancing stuff was useless for Steve, but at least the hairspray Billy had meant _business_.

“Bring your camera.” Were the words that left Billy’s lips as soon as Steve joined him in the living room again… and Steve hesitated, that quiet, uninvited thought of ‘ _this is work_ ’ sneaking into his brain and hitting him like a brick.

The elevator ride down was silent, Billy’s fingers tapping idly against the handrail as he leaned against it. He stared out of the glass window and down into the lobby as they descended. Steve wondered if he was nervous, if someone like Billy could even _get_ nervous about something like this.

Steve on the other hand, really felt like his stomach was in his throat.

He had no idea what to expect, had no idea what was expected of _him_. Was he supposed to just hang back and get photos of Billy at this party? Or was he supposed to be coming as Billy’s guest… maybe even his date. The heavy weight of his camera around his neck, reminded him which of those was most likely.

As soon as they hit the lobby, Billy snapped the command “Car!” at the receptionist, and she kind of looked like he’d just pointed a gun at her… she scrambled to get the phone into her hand and quickly called down to the garage.

“Mister Hargrove is here and waiting for his car… Yes, _quick would be good_.” She whispered that last bit, and Steve had to strain a little to hear it.

Billy just kept walking, straight to the door where the bulky guy of Steve’s nightmares stood guarding the entryway. “You know, you could call down and make their lives easier.” The doorman said, turning to frown at Billy.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Billy shot back, smiling wide. Genuine. Steve realized quickly that they were _friends_ , he really wanted the back story on how the hell that happened.

The man just hummed, glancing over at Steve and giving him a disapproving look. “He spent the night.” The guy pointed out, turning back to Billy. And Steve felt annoyed… and just a little weird that they were talking about him like he wasn't standing right there, listening.

“We were working late.” Billy said simply, fishing a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and lighting up right in the lobby, Steve looked over his shoulder to find the receptionist staring at them in horror… he mouthed an apology to her and her lower lip trembled a little. He wondered if she was new.

“You look like an idiot.” The guy said, finally addressing Steve.

Billy just barked a laugh, and it echoed in the mostly empty lobby. “You wouldn’t know fashion if it bit you in the ass, Benny.”

Steve just glanced down at himself with a frown. “I dunno, I kind of _feel_ like an idiot.”

“Oh for _fuck's sake…_ ” Billy groaned like this entire thing had turned exasperating. “Look what you did.” He said, jabbing a finger at ‘Benny’... probably referring to the fact that Steve looked about as confident as a drowned rat now.

Benny was entirely unapologetic. “You know... maybe I should just go change the shirt.” Steve started to say, turning on his heel only to get Billy’s hand at the nape of his neck and tugging him back.

“You look _fine_.” Billy grumbled, ignoring Steve’s further protests and dragging him outside.

He probably would have tried a little harder to get away with changing, if he hadn't been distracted by the drop dead _gorgeous_ , vintage, midnight blue Camaro pulling up to the curb… the motor _purring_ , sending a pleasant rumble coursing through Steve’s chest.

“Oh _wow_.” Steve said lamely, watching in awe as the valet got out and passed the keys into Billy’s outstretched hand. “No fucking _way_ … this is yours?!” he exclaimed, finally snapping out of it.

Billy turned back to flash a beaming smile at Steve, all teeth and pride. “You like it?” He asked, as if there were any question to that… as if anyone could have _not_ ‘liked’ it.

“Hell _yeah_ I like it!” Steve answered enthusiastically, stepping up to the passenger side eagerly and grabbing the handle… pulling the door open and sliding into the leather seats like he was sliding into a throne. It smelled like well loved leather and cigarette smoke, Steve closed his eyes and filled his lungs with it.

“Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll let you drive it one day.” Billy said voice smooth, with a hint of something suggestive to it as he got in on the opposite side and keyed the engine on. The combination of Billy’s words and the gentle vibration rolling through him as the Camaro came to life had Steve squirming in his seat, an excitement he didn’t want to analyze too deeply spiking through him.

Billy was watching him out of the corner of his eye, looking back and forth between the road and Steve as he pulled away from the curb… “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanna fuck my car instead of me.” Billy finally said.

Steve laughed, a flush creeping into his skin. “Well, maybe we can compromise and just fuck _in_ your car.” he offered, hands trailing over the soft of the leather seat.

“Hell no,” Billy said sharply, “You stain this pretty baby with _anything_ and they’ll be pulling a suitcase full of you out of the bay.” he warned — it sounded like a joke. _Sort_ of.

“Guess we’ll have to settle for my Bimmer then…” Steve said, rolling his eyes at Billy’s dramatics.

“You got a nice car, pretty boy?” Billy asked, sounding surprised… like he’d expected Steve to be driving around in some clunky piece of shit. Honestly, the assumption wasn't all that far off.

“It’s _old_ … and not in the good way.” Steve explained, thinking about how if he’d stayed back home in Indiana the whole thing would have probably rusted out by now.

“Hmm.” Billy just hummed and fished a pack of Marlboro's out of his jacket pocket, tapped the bottom against his thigh until one had shifted far enough out for him to get his lips around it. “You smoke?” he offered the pack to Steve, who shook his head. He’d quit a few years back, but… Billy made it sound tempting.

“Suit yourself.” Billy said around the filter. “Light me up.” He nodded his head towards the center console and Steve dug around until he found a lighter there, flicking it open and leaning over into Billy’s side of the Camaro… holding the flame carefully to the end.

Billy breathed in as the flame caught, blew the smoke back out through his nose… and then Steve was settling back into his seat, running his thumb over the smooth metal surface of the lighter in his palm.

An uncomfortable silence infected the space between them, and Steve started to worry that maybe when sex got removed from the equation… they just had nothing else to talk about. When the quiet had gone on for far too long, and Steve just couldn't _stand_ it anymore he gave in and forced himself to speak up.

“How’d you get the name ‘Hurricane’ anyway?” It wasn't _exactly_ what he’d wanted to ask, but he wanted to know more about who Billy really was… and it seemed like a good start to working up to more personal questions.

“Can spin a guy on my dick.” Billy replied easily, like he didn't even have to _think_ about it first.

“Fuck off — you’re full of _shit_!” Steve fired back, not quite able to keep from laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of that.

“Okay yeah, you got me.” Billy was smiling, the cigarette dancing on his lips as he spoke. “So you remember the hurricane fallout that hit back in fourteen?" Steve nodded, still chuckling a little. "I surfed that bitch… and then I fucked a guy on the beach after.” he explained, his grin only widening.

Steve just ended up falling into another fit of laughter, ended up wheezing for breath. “I don’t believe that first part, but I _definitely_ believe you fucked someone on the beach.” He finally said, when he was able to catch his breath.

“Fine… I picked it myself.” Billy said, voice going flat. Steve swallowed, the smile dropping from his face a little.

“When you started…?” He asked, carefully prodding for more — Steve knew full well how easy it was to drive Billy into closing himself off again.

“Yep… Hurricane sounded a lot better than cum-dumpster… or whore, _slut_ …” Billy chewed at the filter for a moment before pausing… a scowl etched onto his face. “Took a long time until I got treated like a human-fucking-being.”

Steve didn’t know what to say, but he figured just staring probably wasn’t the _right_ thing… still, he couldn’t seem to speak. The words kept getting caught up in his throat.

“But look at me now!” Billy suddenly shouted, laughing with it. “Now I’m _king_ , baby.”

Everything Steve could think to say just rang hollow in his head… like it was all meaningless. So he kept quiet, let one of his hands fall to Billy’s thigh and _squeezed_ in a way he hoped was comforting. He heard the sharp intake of breath next to him, but couldn't bring himself to look… his eyes staying glued to staring out of the passenger side window.

Steve left his hand there, and Billy didn't shove it away.

* * *

Steve still hadn’t asked the one thing he needed to know the answer to… _what were they?_ So he soldiered on, interrupted the silence for a second time with the hesitant question; “So, are we like- are we dating?”

Unfortunately, he’d managed to wait _right_ until they were pulling up to the venue… The Camaro slowing to a stop at the curb — and Billy idled the car in front of what appeared to be a club… choked on his own tongue, and turned to stare at Steve with wide, horrified eyes.

Billy’s lips worked around an answer with no words… and then there was the sound of hands slamming against the hood, and the two of them jerked up to spot several girls staring into the Camaro.

“OH MY GOD ITS THE HURRICANE!” One of them screamed.

“YOU SCRATCH HER AND I WILL KILL YOU!” Billy was quickly shouting back, his second murderous warning of the day. Then he was hurrying out of the Camaro with a look on his face like he wasn’t making an idle threat. The girls just squealed and giggled to each other, like maybe they were hoping he _would_.

“What the…” Steve muttered, following after Billy... just in time to catch a couple security guards hauling the girls off, and a guy taking Billy’s keys, smoothly sliding in behind him and driving the car off. Billy seemed to recover fast, someone had rushed over and was talking to him a mile a minute as they led the both of them into the venue.

Steve felt out of place immediately, stomach feeling a little sick after the deer-in-headlights look Billy had given him just before they got out of the Camaro… the unanswered question hanging thick in the air between them. He watched as Billy slid effortlessly into this sickly sweet personality that… he realized was the same way Billy had been with him when they’d first met in that fated bathroom, back when the two of them were soaked in champagne.

It was the attitude that had instantly rubbed Steve the wrong way. The same one that, at the time, Billy couldn’t seem to figure out why it wasn't working on him… Steve remembered the way Billy got frustrated, like Steve was the problem. And he must have been, because that whole act worked with everyone else. It was working _now_ with this guy, who apparently knew some director that Billy was supposed to be working with.

Steve was catching tiny snippets of the conversation over the thumping of electronic music that was growing louder and louder as they neared the end of a dark hall… And then they were stepping out into this massive club, strobe lights flickering, bodies writhing together on the dance floor.

The overwhelming smell of weed and body odor hit Steve like a slap to the face, and he grimaced. “I’ll get you two something to drink!” The guy was saying, melting away into a crowd of people. Billy’s hand landed at the center of Steve’s back, fingers curling into the fabric and tugging him in the opposite direction that man had gone.

Steve just followed in silence, not quite confident in his ability to yell loud enough for Billy to hear him over the music while they were moving.

Billy stepped over some ropes that were sectioning a part of the club off from the regular patrons, and Steve nearly got caught up on them as he tried to follow suit. Billy just glanced over his shoulder, smiling as he watched Steve’s struggle. It helped him _relax_ a little, a reminder that the Billy he had caught those fleeting glimpses of was still in there… even if he had to be the ‘ _Hurricane_ ’, now.

“Don’t move, I’m getting us drinks.” Billy yelled the words, despite the fact that the music was a lot quieter over here.

Steve slid into the booth and gave Billy a questioning look… “I thought that other guy-” He started to protest, only to get cut off.

“If we wait on him we aren't getting shit.” Billy said with a roll of his eyes, easily predicting what Steve was going to say, turning and slipping away into the crowd

Steve felt weird watching him go, felt almost like he was getting ditched… and to say that this wasn't exactly his _scene_ would be putting it mildly. He tapped his fingers uncomfortably on the vinyl of the seats as he scanned the crowd of unfamiliar faces… he thought he could pick out a few people who looked like they might have been mildly famous, but he couldn’t remember what for.

It _felt_ like Billy was taking longer than he probably was, and Steve fished out his phone to check the clock on it, frowning. Watched the minutes tick up slowly, still no sign of Billy. “Well, well, _well…_ Look what we have here.” A voice drawled from his left, and Steve lifted his gaze to find a familiar freckled face leering over at him, launching across the ropes and slipping easily into the booth next to him.

“Oh... hey.” Steve said cautiously, trying to shuffle away as Tommy’s thigh pressed firmly up against his own. He was wearing a baby blue crop top with a Jiffy Lube logo splashed across the front, and Steve instantly felt less self-conscious about his own outfit. “Where’s Carol?” he asked, figuring that she couldn’t be too far off.

“Around.” Tommy replied vaguely, plopping his elbow on the table and dropping his chin into his palm… staring up at Steve with heavy eyes. “Whose dumb enough to leave _you_ all alone?”

Steve just laughed, he wondered how Billy would react to someone flirting with him this obviously — _especially_ Tommy. “They’re coming back.” Steve said simply, trying to feel as confident in that as he sounded.

“Oh, really!?” Tommy said in exaggerated surprise… popping his head up from his hand and glancing around them, as if he was genuinely trying to pick out Steve’s mysterious friend from the crowd. “Any _minute_ now, right?” He finally said after the charade started to get old.

Steve’s outward confidence must have faltered, he dropped his head and muttered something defensive as a pitying look flashed over Tommy’s face. “Looks like we both got ditched.” He said, and Steve was kind of surprised by that. He’d expected the guy to just keep poking fun at him, but when Steve looked back up to catch Tommy’s expression he was just staring bitterly out into the dance floor.

“You got ditched…?” Steve asked, leaning in a bit.

“Sort of, Carol’s _networking_.” Tommy said, his frown deepening. “We were supposed to just have fun tonight, so I got pissed and wandered off...” Steve didn’t bring up the fact that it kind of sounded like they ditched _each other_. “It’s just... always work with her, we used to just have a good time at these things.” Tommy finished, sighing and shoving himself against the back of the booth.

“Sounds like she just has a lot of drive.” Steve said, shrugging. Tommy rolled his head to give Steve an unamused look, huffing.

“Yeah easy for you to say now, wait till you see what Billy’s like.” Tommy said, a knowing look in his eyes. And Steve wondered when the hell he'd figured that out, or if everyone at that shoot had caught onto what was going on… he really hoped it wasn’t that.

He was about to ask, when Carol interrupted, pressing two hands down onto their table… sharp nails clacking on the surface. “Making friends without me?” She demanded, giving Steve an evaluating look.

“Like you care.” Tommy replied, clearly pouting. And Steve really didn’t want to be in the middle of _these_ two while they were fighting, in fact he couldn't think of a single thing that would be worse.

“You’re right, I don’t.” Carol said sharply, slipping in on the other side of Steve and sidling up, far too close for comfort. He ended up shifting away only to find himself pressed up against Tommy again. “But I’m sure you’d rather talk to me, right Stevie?” She asked, batting her eyelashes.

She looked about as innocent as a viper.

He figured saying he wasn’t all that interested in talking to _either_ of them, wouldn’t go over very well… so he just kept his mouth shut, nervously searched the crowd near the bar for Billy and failed to lay eyes on him.

“Surprised you have time to talk to anyone who isn't a producer.” Tommy said haughtily, sticking his nose in the air and sniffing a little. Carol just groaned and threw her head back, like she dealt with this sort of thing all the time and was at her wits end.

“You guys are like... best friends right?” Steve interjected, fully aware that he was going to have to play peacekeeper here. “You shouldn't let little stuff get in the way.” he finished with a shrug.

They just gave each other a quirked brow, before turning to Steve to glare at him. “ _It’s none of your business!_ ” They both snapped simultaneously... Like they hadn’t just plopped into his booth and aired all their dirty laundry out right in front of him.

Steve sighed and dropped his forehead heavily to the table, wincing at the solid thunk it made. This was going to be a long night… he could just _tell_. Tommy and Carol went right back to arguing, and much to Steve’s surprise the sound of their bickering turned to jokes shortly, and before he knew it they had managed to work the whole thing out.

He wondered if that was why his past relationships never worked out, if it was because he just didn’t spend long enough arguing with them. Whenever he got into a fight with someone he would just close up... pull away. It had never worked out very great for him.

Before Steve could wallow in any of the self pity threatening to creep into his brain… there was a loud slam on the table, the sound of glasses clinking together. Steve sat up quick, all three of them startled by the sudden sound.

“Both of you… _out_.” They all snapped their gazes up to Billy, who was standing in front of the booth and looking absolutely furious, a finger jabbing between Carol and Tommy.

“Billlyyy-” Carol simpered, “We were just keeping the seat warm for you.”

“ _Out!_ ” Billy repeated, yelling this time. Tommy quickly jumped up and out of the booth, Carol was slower… sliding up and circling around to Billy, got up in his face and met his glare.

“Keep telling me what to do… and I’ll shove your cock up your own ass, _honey_.” Carol said, patting Billy on the shoulder before grabbing Tommy’s arm and pulling him away. Tommy threw a look over his shoulder, mouthed a goodbye to Steve.

“...Leave you alone for two fuckin’ seconds.” Billy grumbled, flopping into the booth and passing a bottle of vodka over to Steve.

“Thanks.” Were the words that left Steve’s mouth, rather than pointing out that Billy had taken a lot longer than two seconds. His fingers curled cautiously around the base of the bottle, frowning down at the two glasses… “Are we just… drinking this straight? Not even ice?”

Billy gave him a _look_ , like somehow asking for something other than straight Vodka was a tall order. He snatched it out of Steve’s hands and unscrewed the top, throwing it back and taking a swig right from the bottle. He let out a satisfied breath as it fell from his lips, and licked away the trickle of alcohol that had escaped down the corner of his mouth.

Steve wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered to bring the glasses, if he was just gonna do that.

Billy offered the bottle back to Steve, a little nod to his head… like he was saying ‘and now your turn’. Steve took it back with a steady determination, ignored the way Billy turned in the booth and set his legs heavily down into Steve’s lap. He tilted his head back and tried to drink the same way Billy had, got a couple swallows down before the burn caught up with him… caused him to sputter and choke, pulling the bottle away as he coughed.

Billy just laughed, slapping a hand at his thigh before scooting in closer… he thrust a warm palm between Steve’s shoulder blades and rubbed.

“Alright, pretty boy — don’t try to keep up.” He said with a chuckle, digging those fingers into Steve’s muscle. Billy grabbed the vodka back before Steve could say anything to that and took another long pull, throat working as he swallowed it down… Steve watched in awe as he drained nearly a quarter of the bottle.

“Is that really a good idea…?” Steve started to ask as Billy dropped it back to the table.

“Are you my _mother_ , or are you my photographer?” Billy asked dryly, leveling an unamused stare at Steve… and Steve swallowed, his heart sinking. Was that his answer? Was Billy letting him know where he stood, that he was just the photographer and nothing more?

If Steve’s thoughts were reflected on his face, Billy didn’t show any recognition of it… he simply pulled his legs back off Steve's lap and stood, tugging Steve up and out of the booth behind him. “It’s showtime.” Billy said, snatching up the vodka in one hand and leading Steve along with the other as he headed deeper into the roped off section of the club… leading him into a room that was full of far _better_ smelling people.

The room was dark and smokey, halls leading off in various directions… little red doors lined up on a wall, the words ‘ _VIP lounge_ ’ rolled through Steve’s head — one of those things he’d always heard about, but never actually expected to encounter in his lifetime.

He caught sight of Jonathan off to one corner and felt comforted by the fact that he at least knew a few other people here. “Brenner!” The sound of Billy’s voice dripping faux sugary-sweetness pulled his attention back. He turned to spot an older man standing with a tumbler clenched in his hand… watched as he swirled a little cube of ice around the bottom.

“ _Hargrove_... you’re late.” Brenner said, not so much as offering a glance in Steve’s direction.

“Well, you know how it is.” Billy replied vaguely, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t preoccupied with holding a bottle of Vodka.

“No, I don't.” Brenner said, finally letting his eyes flick over to take Steve in before returning his full attention to Billy.

“Had to pick up my new friend here!” Billy lied smoothly, swinging his bottle clutching arm around Steve’s shoulder and sloshing a little Vodka onto his sleeve.

“Oh, you’re calling them ‘friends’ now?” Brenner asked, slowly raising his glass to his lips and taking a sip of whatever drink he had. Steve could feel the way Billy’s forearm tensed around his shoulders, and he really just wanted to punch this guy right in his stupid, smug face.

“Something like that... “ Billy grit out, the fake smile still plastered over his features slipping just the slightest.

“As fascinating as this conversation is… Newby is here, I want you to go find him and make an impression.” Brenner cut in before Billy could say more, scanning the room and narrowing his eyes. “A _good_ impression, Hargrove.” he clarified, before Billy could whisk Steve away.

“You got it, sir!” Billy said cheerily, throwing him a thumbs up as he jabbed at Steve’s back to go forward… not that Steve needed much encouragement to get away from this guy.

“Who the hell was that, and why is he such an _asshole_?” Steve hissed under his breath, as they made their way to the other side of the room. Billy just laughed deep, seeming to take great joy out of hearing Steve call him that.

“ _The boss…_ ” He whispered conspiratorially, “Or at least, one of ‘em... he’s top dog at this production company and they make up for like, more than half my film work.” Billy went on to explain.

“Well, he sucks.” Steve insisted, only to get a fond smile out of Billy. It was so much better than the fake one he’d had glued onto his face since they got here, Steve found himself wanting to _drown_ in it. “Alright… then whose this Newby guy?” Steve asked instead, trying to play catch-up with the ins and outs of Billy’s work.

“Newby’s an investor… sort of.” Billy explained, nose wrinkling a little as he seemed to think about it. “He’s more like an over involved, very wealthy fan.”

“But he’s _not_ a huge fan of Brenner, and the production company wants to secure him as an investor, they wanna use his money to fund new projects, hire more actors… it looks pretty bad on Brenner if he’s what's holding Newby back from signing on.”

“So what does that have to do with you?” Steve asked.

“Well, it just so happens that people _love_ me.” Billy said, preening. “So I’m supposed to convince Newby to come on despite Brenner, and offer him a deal to be involved in the production of a film which… should be like candy to a guy like him.”

“So that’s the reason you couldn't miss this thing.” Steve said, putting together the pieces.

“Bingo.” Billy said, “Smart _and_ pretty.” he enthused, lids going heavy as he seemed to drag his eyes up and down Steve…

“Gee, thanks.” Steve said with a roll of his eyes, trying not to feel to happy with the baseless flattery. He startled a little when Billy suddenly shoved the open bottle of Vodka into his hands.

“Keith!” Billy called, slapping at the back of a guy who was turned away from them… a guy who turned around with an unamused look, nose wrinkling up as recognition seemed to hit him.

“ _Damn_ , if I'd known you were coming I woulda stayed home.” ‘Keith’ said, voice dry... but there was a little quirk to his lips as he spoke.

“Yeah right, you _love_ me.” Billy fired back effortlessly, Keith just smiled properly this time and shuffled a little awkwardly.

"Loves a strong word, I would say I tolerate you." Keith said, pausing a second before continuing, "You're like the big dumb puppy I can't get rid of."

" _Woof._ " Billy played along fondly.

And okay. Steve _immediately_ disliked Keith, probably because he was smug and annoying — not because he seemed to be close enough with Billy that he could get away with insulting him.

“Who's that?” Keith asked, leveling an evaluating stare at Steve... he got the impression he'd been found lacking, if Keith's frown was anything to go by. Billy seemed to get caught up on the answer to that, had half a response out before he stopped… stared at Steve for a moment…

“Steve, he’s uh- we’re friends.” Billy settled on, and Steve was trying to decide if he hated being referred to as Billy’s ‘photographer’ more, or his ‘friend’.

“Like I haven't heard that one before.” Keith said with a roll of his eyes.

Steve felt more and more like a third wheel as the conversation went on, Keith launching into a story about the latest video game he'd gotten into — and Billy seemingly able to actually follow his frantic train of thought as he explained blaster guns and aliens and... who knows what else, Steve started to tune him out.

"So, you two work together?" Steve asked, trying not to picture them together... something must have shown on his face because Billy stared at him with wide eyes... before busting out with laughter, a horrified expression taking over Keith's features.

"Well we do... in a way." Keith started to explain, nose wrinkling back up again... "I do behind the scenes stuff... It's all very technical, you wouldn't find it very interesting." he finished, raising a brow at Steve... who _definitely_ took that like a dig. Still, he was glad to know Keith and Billy at least weren't fucking.

Then, as if Steve had interrupted him — and as if he hadn't already spent nearly twenty _minutes_ talking about that game — Keith launched right back into it with Billy... and Billy seemed happy enough to entertain him.

There were still so many things Steve wanted to ask Billy... he couldn't help but feel annoyed that Keith had showed up to dominate the guy's attention instead. Steve lifted the bottle of Vodka to his lips, figuring alcohol was probably the best way to relax and forget the bad mood threatening to creep in.

Steve was scanning the crowd, when he caught sight of one pissed off Brenner looking in their direction… he slowly slid his hand over and pinched at Billy’s elbow.

“ _Shit_ \- what?” Billy hissed, turning to look at Steve… before following his stare right to Brenner, who was now making his way over to them. “Shit.” he said again. Keith hummed The Funeral March far less subtly than Steve would have thought was wise, before slowly melting away from them.

 _Some friend..._ Steve thought bitterly, watching him turn tail and run.

“Do you know where Newby is, while you waste your time?” Brenner asked, a clear warning in his tone. Billy just shook his head, perfect curls bouncing, lips pulled thin. “He’s off with Nicole, in a _private_ room.”

“ _Fuck._ ” Billy breathed the word, glancing towards the doors that Steve had counted out when they’d first arrived.

“Yes, fuck _would_ be the word.” Brenner said without humor. “You’re going to go in there, and pry her vicious little claws out of him… and hope that you can still win him over.”

Billy looked a lot of things... humiliated, hurt, and angry were a few of them. He quickly hurried past Brenner and made his way to the door that the man had pointed out. Steve trailed after him nervously, a part of him wanted to reach out and touch Billy… but instead he just grabbed the back of his shirt right as they made it to the room.

Billy wheeled around, jabbed a finger roughly into the center of Steve’s chest. “Get lost.” He ordered, eyes trained on Steve… conveying just how serious he was. Steve balked, and nodded as an embarrassed flush crept over his skin… he watched as Billy entered the room and slammed the door in his face.

Steve stood there for a second… feeling awkward, but more importantly feeling _hurt._ And wondering why the hell he had even come here tonight… why Billy had bothered inviting him. Steve looked around to see if he could spot Jonathan again, but the guy had disappeared… still, he circled the room a couple times, looking.

He figured he could at least talk to the guy about photography, maybe get _something_ out of this horrible night. Ten minutes later he still hadn't found Jonathan, but he did manage to spot... the person he assume was Nicole, leaving the room Billy had gone into with a sour look on her face. No sign of Billy or that Newby guy thought... Okay then, he could handle that.

Steve had his camera with him, and decided to occupy his time by taking subtle photos of the party going on around him... capturing several interesting shots of people who hadn't even realized he was there. He’d spotted Tommy and Carol several times only to duck away from them… and ended up wandering into another room, one that was tucked further away from everything, in an attempt to get out of their line of sight.

This was clearly a back room that people didn’t really use... and there was an old shitty couch tucked against one of the walls with a big guy sleeping on it, his arms stretched out along the back cushion. He had a rhinestone sheriff’s badge pinned to a uniform that looked anything but official, the buttons running up the front were popped open... all the way down to reveal his slightly fit, slightly pudgy belly.

Steve couldn’t help but wonder how someone could look like they had abs _and_ like they had just a few too many beers on the daily. The guy had a worn out looking sheriff’s hat pulled down to obscure his face, so Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when he snapped a photo… only to have the guy address him.

"I usually charge for those, ya' know." The guy said, lifting his head enough so that he could see Steve properly.

"Oh, sorry-" Steve started to say, only to get cut off.

“Nice shirt, you steal that from a seventy year old bag lady?” The guy asked, voice dry but laced around the edges with humor.

“Nice _costume_ , you get that at a Spirit Halloween?” Steve fired back, too unsettled and annoyed by this night to play nice any longer.

The guy lifted a hand up and pushed the brim of his hat high enough for Steve to really see his face… to see the eighties dad-stache twitch up in a grin. “Touché.” The guy said, eyes sparkling a little. “But my manager _makes_ me wear this, you stepped out in that voluntarily.”

“You’d think…” Steve muttered, rolling his eyes. He considered just walking off, maybe he could finally find Jonathan.

“Sit, tell daddy all about your troubles.” The guy offered, patting next to him on the couch.

“ _Ugh_ \- did you really just say that?” Steve asked, grimacing.

“Oh come on, daddy kinks are a big sell for me.” The guy said, laughing at Steve's disgust. For some reason, Steve found his legs leading him over to the couch, buckling at the knees and sinking him down into the disconcertingly soft seat.

He wondered if people fucked on this thing, and raised a suspicious brow at a dark stain on one of the cushions before carefully shifting away from it.

“You don’t seem like you belong here... and trust me, that's not a bad thing.” The guy said, his arms still stretched out along the back of the couch, one massive, hairy forearm brushing against Steve’s neck as he tried to relax. It didn’t feel like the guy was making a move, it was more like he just was used to taking up space.

“I don’t, I’m not really supposed to be here…” Steve sighed, “I have no idea what I’m doing here.” he clarified, dropping his head back onto that solid bicep behind him and staring up into the dark ceiling. A hand landed heavily in Steve’s hair and mussed it up, patting him like a dog.

“Get out while you still can, kid.” The guy said, a tinge of actual warning to his tone.

“I think it's too late, I’m in deep.” Steve said with a pained grin, glancing over at the man next to him and offering a palm. “Steve, photographer.” At least he could finally say that again, didn’t have to feel like he was _lying_ when those words tumbled from his lips.

“Hopper, old news.” The man said, grinning wide this time. Steve just laughed, the sound punching out of him like he hadn’t been expecting it.

“Oh come on, you don’t look _that_ old.” Steve said, because yeah… maybe he wasn’t as young as the twenty-somethings all milling around in the other room, but he still looked _good_.

“Please, I’m washed up... but lemme tell you, this whole thing _killed_ in the late eighties.” Hopper gestured to himself as he spoke, and Steve bet that was probably true. He racked his brain, trying to think if he’d ever seen this man in any of the old skin-mags he used to keep under his bed when he was in high school…

“Wait… you were in that spread with that Russian guy!” Steve exclaimed, flushing a little at the memory… that he’d actually tugged one _out_ to this guy.

“Jesus, don’t fucking remind me.” Hopper said, expression fighting between a grimace over the memory, and a pleased look at Steve having actually recalled something from his heyday. “Guy barely spoke a lick of English, back then it was all about the forbidden… the Russian and the all American good boy, what a fucking nightmare that whole shoot was.” Hopper tugged the Vodka out of Steve’s hands and frowned at it, before tipping it up and finishing the bottle off.

“The result wasn’t so bad.” Steve said, flushing as he realized he was probably admitting something with that.

“You a _fan_ , ‘Donna Summer’?” Hopper asked, raising a brow. Steve just groaned, flushing even deeper.

“No one’s a fan, grandpa.” Billy’s voice cut in, sharp and dangerous.

“There he is, the new king graces us with his presence.” Hopper said easily, not even bothering to look up at Billy. That hand found Steve’s head again and fingers laced into his hair… scrubbing softly. “Hate to break it to you, but I’ve found my one remaining fanboy.”

“Don’t _touch_ him.” Billy snarled, angling forward like he was ready to pull them apart himself.

“What?” Hopper said, blinking... seeming to catch on that this was about more than just their apparent hatred for each other.

“ _What_ -?” Steve squeaked out at the same time, reeling from Billy’s hand suddenly fisting into his shirt and tugging him up off the couch.

“With me, _now!_ ” Billy demanded, pulling Steve in the direction of a door… a bathroom Steve quickly realized as he made out the sign on the front.

“Hey kid, just yell if you need my services!” Hopper shouted after them, tipping his stupid sheriff hat and laughing as Billy slammed the bathroom door behind them.

“What's your problem?!” Steve finally managed to get out, as Billy manhandled him into the room and shoved him up against a wall.

“You’re my problem!” Billy shouted back, “Every time I leave you alone you’ve got someone hanging off you!" Steve flinched a little at that, he hadn't been expecting it. "Be honest, you just come here to grow your ‘ _client_ ’ base?” Billy sneered, tongue sweeping out to lick at his top lip.

“Billy- shit, _you_ invited _me_!” Steve shot back, pushing at Billy’s chest only to get shoved back harder… Steve winced at the way his shoulder hit hard against the tile wall. “And you’ve been ignoring me the _whole night!!_ ” He added, with a exasperated edge to his voice.

"Bullshit!" Billy said with a cruel laugh, "I introduced you to my friends!"

"Oh right, that thrilling part where I listened to you and Keith talk for... almost an _hour_ about some space game, and then you ditched me for the _second_ time tonight."

“I was fucking _working_!” Billy roared, pulling back from Steve and yelling it into the empty bathroom.

“Working…” Steve blanched, feeling sick. “That's another thing... You really can’t get mad at me for just talking to people, if you were off ‘ _working_ ’ with someone else.” he said bitterly, letting his tone imply exactly what he knew Billy’s work consisted of.

Billy just stared, his mouth falling open… and Steve could see it building up in him, the rage, the _hurt_. “I’m not a _prostitute_.” He finally replied, saying the word with such force that spit hit Steve’s cheek.

“I- I’m-” Steve started to say, mouth working uselessly around broken words.

“I’m the one paying _you_.” Billy said, a sharp humorless grin on his face.

Steve just swallowed, lips drawn into a thin line… it felt like his jaw was wired shut, like he couldn’t speak even if he wanted to.

"Say something." Billy demanded, and all Steve could make out in his eyes was anger — fiery and focused straight onto him.

"I don't think I can do this..." Steve blurted out, the words like steel in his gut... weighing him down, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth as soon as they were out. It wasn't what he wanted to say, but it was the _truth_ , and there was no way he could claw it back in now that it was out...

Billy flinched back like he'd just taken a punch, eyes wide... face twisting up into something ugly. "Find another way home.” He snarled, stalking out of the bathroom, letting the door slam hard behind him.

Steve’s hands were shaking, and he hurried to the sink… grabbing the edges so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He stared into the mirror, at his own face... at the reflection that looked _nothing_ like him.

“Go home.” He told himself.

He could do that, he didn’t belong here… and Billy didn’t want him here. He left the bathroom minutes later, spotted a back door exit… the giant red sign like a beacon calling him home. He had his hand on the cool metal handle, ready to leave... right when he heard someone calling out to him.

“Hey! _Donna Summer!_ ” Steve turned to catch Hopper coming up right behind him, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder. “Don’t sweat it kid, he’ll get over it.” Kind words, from a guy that clearly had no idea what had just gone down between them.

Steve felt tears threatening to spill over, and he blinked his eyes furiously as he stared up at Hopper… this guy's mustache really was magnificent. “I said the wrong thing... “ he murmured out, a tear slipping down his cheek. He never quite felt this pathetic in his entire life, standing at the exit to some shitty night club, with a guy he’d jerked off to when he was a teenager, comforting him.

“We all say the wrong thing sometimes, you’ll figure it out.” Hopper said, unpinning his rhinestone sheriffs badge and taking the front of Steve’s t-shirt into his hands, fastening it carefully to the front… before releasing the shirt and patting at Steve’s chest. “For my last, remaining fan.” Hopper said with a wink, before walking away.

Steve just watched him go, glanced down at the _ridiculous_ , bedazzled badge on his chest… before turning on his heel and leaving through the back exit.

He walked home, he needed the time to clear his head.

The sheriffs badge twinkled in the light of the street lamps overhead… Steve had no idea how he made it home without getting mugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second bathroom fight. WILL THERE BE A THIRD? 
> 
> Washed up pornstar Hopper makes me ridiculously happy, he’s like a mythical creature. This entire AU is just _wildd_ to write.
> 
> Billy POV on the way~


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering why this took me so long... I haven’t been in the right headspace for this fic for a WHILE - and I wrote like, six different versions of this chapter that I just kept scrapping huge chunks of because I could never get the right tone. 
> 
> And then while pulling my hair out over it, I had an epiphany - and scrapped some more. But now we've finally got this, and I feel like it's something I am happy with.
> 
> Someone, please send me support. LOL…

That interaction with Steve was with him all night...

It was like acid in his veins, fueling the cruel smile on his face as several girls chatted him up… they were cute, it looked like they put a lot of effort into things. But they weren’t what Billy wanted, and they certainly weren’t what he _needed_ tonight.

No, tonight he was scanning the crowd for an _excuse_ … found one, eyes zeroing in on a pretty little thing with a meathead boyfriend. Billy shoved away from the girls at his side and made his way over to her instead, made a point of flirting right in front of her guy — _really_ turned the charm on.

Billy earned himself a shove, a few spit out warnings… that he’d better back off, ‘ _man_ ’.

“Maybe _you_ should back off, I think she likes me better.” Billy fired back, his grin going manic as the guy’s face turned purple… fists balling up at his side. His girl _laughed_ , batted her thick eyelashes — and that really was the last straw. The guy’s fist rose up, pulling back and flying through the air.

The only thing Billy liked better than a good _fuck_ , was a good fight.

In that moment, it was like everything besides the rushing of blood in his head faded away... the music a dull drone, blending together with the sound of knuckles on skin. He probably could have dodged the hits, this guy was slow and drunk and rage filled _stupid_ … But Billy wanted the pain, he wanted to feel the impact in his bones.

He took a kind of sick pleasure in the fact that he’d have to spend an extra two hours in the makeup chair, just to hide the marks on his skin. They traded blows, Billy giving far worse than he got… and somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of hands pulling at him in a vain attempt to separate them — voices shouting, trying to cut into his focus.

And then big-and-stupid managed to land a blow right to Billy’s nose, a stomach churning crack echoing through his skull. Warm blood ran down the front of his face like a faucet… he flinched back and clutched at his nose in a weak attempt to stymie the flow.

He would have gone in for the retaliation — pushed past the hands holding him back — if it wasn't for the fact that his head was swimming… his vision blurring. A familiar voice was in his ear, bringing him back, drifting in through the fog and pressing something to his nose, telling him to hold it there.

Usually he wasn’t one to let people tell him what to do, not when he got into his redzone… but he was dizzy from the blood loss and the adrenaline was already abandoning him, sending him crashing. He flopped into a vinyl booth, blinking and trying to focus on his surroundings…

“He needs to leave, if you can’t keep him from doing that shit!” A voice faded in, and Billy cocked his head towards the sound… Brenner was standing there, convincing the owner of the place that Billy was ‘ _under control_ ’.

Clarke was kneeling in front of him, looking concerned… his hand kept flying up and pushing the rag back against Billy’s nose whenever he started to let it drop. Billy hadn’t even been aware the guy was _here_ tonight, but it explained why he’d been so quick to listen… taking direction from Clarke was his job.

“You _know_ we’re shooting in a couple days, what were you thinking?” Clarke was saying, he sounded more like a concerned parent, like he was about to come at Billy with the classic ‘I’m not mad, just _disappointed_ ’

“Makeup can handle it.” Billy just ground out, refusing to make eye contact with the guy.

“Why must you _always_ damage the merchandise.” Brenner’s voice came from over his left shoulder, sounding tired.

Billy glanced up and started considering how much trouble he’d get in, if he blew his bloody nose all over Brenner’s perfect, white button up. “Go get him some ice, the swelling will be the hardest to hide.” Brenner commanded. Clarke rose quick, hurrying off to the bar in search of some.

“Thanks for your concern…” Billy muttered under his breath, flinching at the weight of Brenner’s hand suddenly landing on his shoulder. He knew better than to act like this, knew the guy didn’t take kindly to Billy’s ‘ _attitude_ ’... as he liked to call it. But the night had left Billy without much of a filter, and his ability to pander to the guy was nearly completely exhausted.

“Be careful, _Billy_.” Brenner said his name like it left a sour taste in his mouth. “You might have everyone else around here fooled, but I remember where you came from… that you’re really nothing more than a piece of shit that fell into good luck.”

Billy tensed, he had the overwhelming urge to shove Brenner’s hand away... but the guy was already removing it himself, leaning forward to whisper the last of his warning into Billy’s ear. “Some day, they’re going to notice the _smell_.” Then he was walking away, disappearing into the back of the club.

And Billy’s hands were _shaking_. He was staring at them, clasped in his lap... pressed them between his knees like it was the only way he could get them to stop. He wanted to launch up out of the booth and chase Brenner down, beat that smug fucking look _right_ off of his face… he had wanted to do that for a long time.

“Well done.” Another unwelcome voice spoke, distracting him. Billy growled, turning to find Hopper coming up to him now… it was like this entire night was out to get him. Hopper was holding out a hand towel from the bathrooms, all wrapped up around some ice… Billy hesitated, wondering if taking it meant he owed this fucker a _favor_.

“Told Clarke I’d bring it over.” Hopper explained, shaking the towel a little. “C’mon, I don’t bite.” He urged when Billy didn’t reach out to take it — _grinning_ , that stupid caterpillar above his lip curling up. Billy still couldn’t believe that one time when Hopper had tried to insinuate that he was _jealous_ of the stupid thing, that Billy wished he could grow one as ‘thick and luscious’… he _wasn’t_ jealous.

Billy snatched the bundle of ice out of his hands and pressed the soothing chill to the bridge of his aching nose. Hopper fell into the couch next to him, and Billy shifted pointedly away from him. “Fuck off.” He snarled, wincing when he accidentally pushed the ice a little too harshly into his new bruise.

“Yeah well, I’m not gonna do that.” Hopper said stubbornly, pulling a cigarette out of the pack stashed in the front pocket of his uniform… lighting one up and slotting it between his lips before offering one to Billy. He stole it from Hoppers hand without so much as a thank you.

They smoked in silence for a while, watching as the nightlife slowly died around them… people going home, drunk and in the arms of strangers.

“I know we aren’t exactly friends…” Hopper started, pausing when Billy snorted at that. “I get it, but I’m gonna offer you some advice right now and… for the love of all that is _holy_ , kid... for once in your life, just take it.” There was so much Billy wanted to say to that, so many biting cruel things at the tip of his tongue… but he swallowed them down, waited.

“Steve’s his name, right?” Hopper pressed on... watching the curt nod Billy gave him, his cigarette ashing onto the leg of his jeans with the jerky motion. “You might not want to face it but, eventually you’re gonna lose all of this — and by that I mean, you’re gonna stop being the hot ticket. Some new firecracker is gonna come onto the scene with a tighter asshole then yours... and then _you’re_ gonna end up like old news.” Hopper paused, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“Trust me, I know.” He went on, pointing an accusing look at Billy. “But a guy like Steve? He’s gonna be the one idiot who hangs around when everyone else moves on, the one who doesn't care whether you're famous or not… because he just likes you for you. And _maybe_ … you should go chase that down before it slips out of your hands.”

There were a lot of things he wanted to say to that… like tell the old dog to mind his own damn business, that he didn’t know _shit_ about Steve… and he certainly didn’t know anymore than Billy did... which wasn't much. But he was starting to feel kind of sick, kind of like he might puke if he had to sit here and listen to Hopper for another second.

So he just said a quick, “Gotta go.” standing up and tossing the slowly melting bundle of ice straight onto Hopper’s crotch.

Hopper flinched as it hit him, “ _Hey-!_ watch the family jewels kid!” he shouted, voice cracking a little — like maybe Billy had actually nailed him pretty good.

Not that he stopped to enjoy it, he was already picking his way through the straggling midnight crew and out the door.

* * *

He knew Steve’s address, he had it somewhere in his phone. Saved into his contacts ever since he’d needed it to send that camera over... the one that _might_ have been his way of apologizing for ruining Steve’s old one.

And yeah, maybe he’d stalked the guy a little to get the address in the first place. But at this point, him showing up at three am, outside Steve’s apartment uninvited... It didn’t even seem like it fell into the top five of ‘fucked up things he’d done’ since he met Steve.

Which was why he couldn’t quite figure his own hesitation out, why he had been sitting outside in the Camaro for the past half hour chain smoking. He didn’t do this kind of shit, didn’t sit around like a little bitch who was scared of rejection… or even worse, _acceptance_.

It wasn’t like Steve had any idea what he was getting into, and it wasn’t like Billy was gonna quit his job for him… and that meant, what? Candle lit dinners before Billy goes off to fuck four different people?

Steve didn’t seem like the kind of guy who could handle that… and Billy knew _he_ wouldn't be able to, if the roles were reversed. Still… he was selfish, because he couldn’t walk away from this… he _needed_ it, needed someone like Steve so badly in his life that he was petrified of how it would feel if he actually got it.

If he got it, and then managed to fuck it up and _lost_ it.

“Come on, Hargrove…” He muttered to himself, hands tightening on the wheel. Psyching himself up, he didn’t drive all the way here just to pussy out like some beta fuckhead. With that pep talk done, he wrenched open the car door before he could lose his nerve again — shutting it too hard behind himself and setting several dogs in the neighborhood off.

Steve lived in a shitty side of town, apartment buildings squeezed in next to each other… they all looked old as hell and a little run down, but they weren’t quite as bad as what Billy used to live in. He spotted some beat to hell BMW and figured that it had to be Steve’s… parked along the curb in front of this one building.

There was nothing special about the place, it had two doors side by side leading into separate apartments… 2A and 2B stamped across the front. Billy knew Steve was in A, because that's where he’d had the package sent. So Billy just finished the last of his cigarette and tossed it to the ground, stamped it out on Steve’s door mat.

‘ _Welcome, peeps!_ ’ It read, with a little baby chick printed on the front. Billy frowned down at it, kind of horrified that anyone would put that in front of their door… even more horrified that it was in front of the door belonging to the guy whose _dick_ he wanted buried in his ass.

He sighed, raising a fist and rapping his knuckles on solid wood before he could rethink this. And there was... nothing… just the sound of a couple dogs still barking into the night. He hated this, hated the fact that he was standing out here, shuffling in his boots waiting for someone to let him in.

Billy couldn’t handle it when he felt like he wasn’t in control… He swallowed thickly before pounding properly on the door this time, gave it about ten seconds before he was full out hammering on the door without pause.

“Okay, okay! Jesus- _who the fuck_ …?” He heard Steve’s muffled voice from the other side of the door, the sound of things knocking over… and then it was swinging open, and Billy was a little gobsmacked.

Because yeah, he’d seen Steve in the morning — half naked and covered in sweat and cum… but he’d never seen Steve in his fucking _pajamas_.

Adidas sweats that were so threadbare he wondered if he could see Steve’s ass through the back, and some old crop top that looked like he hadn’t actually worn it out of the house in years... there were little burn marks around the neck, making Billy think of the times he used to get so blazed off his ass that he would accidentally fumble his blunt right onto his shirt.

He got the overwhelming urge to see _Steve_ high like that, glazed over eyes and an easy smile… it was probably a good look for him.

“Billy…? What happened to you?” Steve asked, adjusting his glasses and staring blearily at Billy’s fucked up face. He’d definitely been sleeping, and Billy had _definitely_ woken him up.

“Long story, let me in.” Billy demanded, shoving at Steve and forcing his way into the apartment, letting the door slam shut behind them... it was small, kind of cramped and cluttered with garbage that probably had sentimental value. It certainly didn't have any _actual_ value he thought, laying eyes on what he was pretty sure was a chia pet shaped like Chewbacca.

“Woah, woah… _hold on!_ ” Steve sputtered out, grabbing at Billy and tugging like he was gonna actually manage to shove Billy back outside… “You can't just barge in here.”

“What, you gonna kick me out?” Billy asked, turning on Steve and pushing back at him… sending him stumbling against a wall. Steve shot him a hurt look, kind of like a kicked puppy. This whole apologizing thing was already going… fan-fuckin- _tastic_.

“ _Asshole…_ ” Steve muttered, that pained expression still twisting his face up… Billy hated it, he wanted to wipe it away so badly.

“Okay, yeah…” Billy said, crowding in on Steve… pressing his arms into the wall on either side of him. “Tell me how you really feel.”

Steve hesitated, like maybe he wasn’t sure if Billy was being serious or not... “You... you’re _confusing_.” He finally said, sounding frustrated.”Pushing and pulling and...and I don’t know what any of this means, I _need_ to know.”

“I’m sorry.” Billy breathed out, leaning in closer still… caging Steve in with his body, keeping far enough that they weren't _quite_ touching. His head was cast down, refusing to meet Steve’s wide, Bambi eyed gaze…

“You scare me.” He admitted quietly, finally closing the distance and pressing his face into the curve of Steve’s neck.

He could hear Steve’s breath hitch, could _feel_ it where their chests were now pressed together.

“Why…?” Steve asked, hands coming up to grab at Billy’s arms and hanging on. Like he’d sink to the floor if Billy wasn’t holding him up.

Billy just groaned… because the little shit was _really_ gonna make him say it… “Because, I fuckin’ _like_ you…” He spoke the words against dry, clean smelling skin. Steve must have taken a shower when he’d come home, scrubbed the smell of that club off himself.

“Oh.” Steve said lamely, and Billy couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh?” Billy repeated, flicking his tongue out at one of the moles on Steve’s neck. “You really didn’t know that?”

Steve sighed as Billy licked at his neck, claiming all that freshly washed skin…“It’s just… kinda hard to tell, you know?” As soon as he’d said that, Billy pulled back… locked eyes with him and gave him a pinched look.

“Why, because I’m a _whore_?” Billy asked, a hint of a growl in his voice. “Because I’d just let anyone walk in my door and fuck me?”

“I don’t _know!_ ” Steve replied, exasperated… throwing his head back into the wall with a painful sounding thunk. “How am I supposed to know?”

“I was pretty professional before I met you.” Billy grumbled, fully backing off and turning to pace in Steve’s living room… “And yeah okay! Maybe I fuck a lot of people, but I don't go around fucking _photographers!_ ” Billy clarified, frustrated that Steve couldn’t figure out the difference between random people and _him_.

“Oh great, so I’m the only photographer then!” Steve replied, folding his arms over his chest — looking like Billy’s explanation had somehow just made things worse.

“You’re not _listening…_ ” Billy started to say, groaning in frustration and pressing his face into his hands… wincing when he realized his nose was still fucked up, the pain of it lancing through him.

“Well, maybe you’re not making any sense!” Steve shouted back, face twisting from anger to one of surprise as Billy’s nose started bleeding again from the pressure.

“ _Fuck._ ” Billy grunted, smearing blood all over his cheek in an attempt to wipe it away.

“Jesus- would you just…” Steve let out a frustrated sound, grabbing Billy’s arm and tugging him towards the tired looking sofa in his living room… “Sit.” Steve commanded.

Billy had half a mind to be defiant, stood there with a pinched frown and blood dripping onto Steve’s carpet… he kind of felt like a kid refusing to take his time out, and Steve’s hands went to his hips as he stared disapprovingly at Billy…

“ _Fine…_ ” Billy finally growled out, dropping heavily into the sofa and huffing. Steve just turned on his heel and disappeared around a doorway… the clanging that sounded from behind the wall clued Billy into the fact that it was the kitchen.

Steve returned moments later with a damp dish rag, wrapping it around his hand... he sat on the coffee table — shuffling forwards, knocking Billy’s knees out of the way and settling his own in between… leaning forward and pressing the damp cloth gently to Billy’s nose. Steve wiped away at the blood smeared over his cheek with tender movements... clearly being careful not to press too hard.

“What happened?” He tried again, eyes roaming Billy’s face and seeming to clock the few other bruises that were beginning to color.

“Got 'inna fight.” Billy said, avoiding Steve’s eyes… staring instead at the strange painting in the corner of the room. It was a rising moon over the water, painted on black velvet...Billy _hated_ it instantly.

Steve was quiet for a moment… one hand pressing the damp cloth firmly under Billy’s nose, the other dropping softly to his knee… fingers tightening, as if Steve thought Billy was going to try to get away or something. The truth is, he was kind of considering it… but he figured busting into Steve’s apartment at three am and then turning right around and running back out would look kind of uncool.

“You eat anything?” Steve’s voice cut in, and Billy tore his eyes from the stupid velvet painting… turned to take in Steve’s slightly concerned face instead, and shook his head. Besides the Vodka, he hadn’t had anything in his belly since they left his apartment earlier that day — he hadn’t even noticed how _hungry_ he was, until Steve said something.

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks, his stomach suddenly aching… cramping up and protesting his hazardous way of life.

Steve made Billy take the cloth and stood again. That hand slipping away from Billy’s knee… and he bit back the urge to grab it, to place it back where it belonged and _force_ Steve to stay with him. He’d never felt so touch starved before, so damn desperate for every single scrap of affection that someone could give him.

He watched Steve turn on his heel, watched him disappear behind the doorway that led to the kitchen… listened to the clinking of plates and silverware. Billy thought about getting up, following Steve in there and shoving him up against the counters… getting hands on him, roughing him up a little, dropping to his knees and...

Then Steve was walking back out, carrying a plate with a stack of peanut-butter jelly sandwiches. Billy couldn’t help but raise a questioning brow at the food, Steve flushing and handing it over.

“Look, it’s shopping day tomorrow.” Steve explained, flopping into the couch next to him… Billy just shrugged and tucked into the food — because he was too hungry to care that Steve was trying to feed him like he was some sort of grumpy toddler.

“Didn’t cut the crust off.” Billy pointed out through a mouthful, figuring he’d play into it. His stomach gave a final pang as food hit it, before giving up the ghost. Steve just snorted, leaned in and pressed their sides together… his head falling to rest on Billy's shoulder. Billy tensed, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“So sleepy…” Steve murmured, sounding like he was already halfway to passing out. Billy just waited, felt Steve go boneless against him… a light sigh blowing at Billy’s curls. He relaxed a little, went back to practically inhaling his sandwiches — listened to soft breathing as he ate, and got caught up in the rise and fall of Steve’s chest.

It was _comforting_ … or terrifying, really. He could see himself getting used to this, to the simple ease that seemed to take over between them when they were alone together… he wanted nothing more than to crawl into Steve’s skin and set up shop, never leave.

He swallowed the last of his sandwich, too big of a bite — and winced at the way it hurt going down. Then he ditched the plate on the coffee table and turned on the sofa until he was laying back against the armrest. Jostling and pushing Steve until he was settled on Billy’s chest…

Billy chuckled softly at the way Steve’s glasses were skewed on his face, jabbing Billy sharply through his shirt. He grabbed them and slid them carefully from Steve’s face, biting his lip when Steve shifted… when the guy made a soft grumbling sound and pressed his nose into Billy’s chest… Steve breathed in deep, before letting it out and making some contented sound.

And yeah okay, maybe Billy was a little hard from that... maybe his cock was currently trying to bust through the front of his jeans and _maybe_ if Steve was awake right now he’d notice it pushing insistently into his soft belly.

But he also didn’t wanna ruin this moment… wanted to keep looking down at Steve’s peaceful face, at his soft, dark lashes fanned out over his cheeks… lips parted ever so slightly, a tiny dribble of saliva rolling out the corner of his mouth and soaking Billy’s shirt.

And _hell..._ it was so endearing. It made Billy’s chest clench up and tighten… made him feel too much all at once. Had him throwing his head back and screwing his eyes shut… sending a prayer up to whoever the hell was listening, that he wasn’t gonna fuck this up.

Maybe Hopper knew a _little_ something… not that he was gonna admit that to the bastards face.

* * *

One of the things Billy was beginning to learn about Steve Harrington, was that he liked to sleep in. The other thing he’d learned was that Steve literally had nothing proper to eat in his entire kitchen.

Despite being up until the crack of dawn the night before, Billy was wide awake by eight the next morning… a cramp in his neck from the awkward sleeping position. Steve snoring softly on his chest, the little damp spot on his shirt only having gotten _worse_.

He’d lifted Steve carefully, settled him into the other side of the couch… got slowly up, only to accidentally slam his shin straight into the coffee table.

“FUCK-SHIT…!” Billy cursed, grabbing his leg and keeling over — landing on the floor and rocking in pain for a second… before glancing up to find Steve still peacefully sleeping. Apparently the little shit could sleep through a damn _earthquake_ , Billy kicked at the couch with his good leg just to make a point.

Steve simply mumbled and rolled over.

After that Billy had wandered into the kitchen, looking for anything he could fill his stomach with… only to open what should have been a pantry and instead finding… some dark, murder closet. Billy had half a mind to back right out when he tried to flick the light on, and all he got was an ominous red glow.

But it was just enough to illuminate some photos hanging in the far corner… and Billy’s curiosity outweighed his self preservation… it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, to the tint of the light in here.

There were pictures of him… things he quickly skipped over, things he didn’t want to focus on. He’d seen himself naked plenty of times, the thrill of it had long died. Instead he focused on a little pile of photographs set to the side, and shuffled through them…

They were the sort of things Billy could picture Steve taking in his free time, random shots of L.A…. pictures of people Billy didn’t recognize. They weren't _famous_ , they were just people from the street. Young and old, some of them embarrassed… like they’d never expected anyone to ask them, ‘can I take your photo?’ — Steve would though, he’d see the beauty in people that no one else did.

That much was clear, in these photographs.

Billy felt a sour pang of jealousy, the fight from last night echoing in Billy’s mind...his accusation that Steve was the jealous one, and Steve calling him out right back. He was right, Billy was choked with jealousy… overwhelmed by it.

He didn’t want to share Steve with _anyone_ … he wanted to keep him tucked away in his apartment, wanted to come home from work and have Steve there waiting for him. Camera in hand, a smile on his face… walking up and telling Billy how beautiful he was.

Not with words so much as the way he _looked_ at him.

Steve’s dark room was a dangerous place… and Billy dropped the photos... turned on his heel, flicking off the light and closing the door behind him.

He went back to searching the kitchen for food… giving up when he found nothing, deciding to settle for peanut butter straight out of the jar. He padded back into the living room, licking the back of a spoon as he stared at all the strange shit Steve kept in his apartment.

Chia pet and velvet painting aside, Steve seemed to collect the kind of stuff no one else wanted — stuff that anyone with half a brain would have thrown away and never looked back on. Billy stared hopelessly at the weird clay giraffe sitting on his bookshelf, all malformed and looking like some kind of idiot had painted it.

Right next to that were books that looked like the nerdiest shit he'd ever seen, dragons all over the cover… Billy couldn’t even picture the Steve he knew reading these, he grabbed one and flipped it open, staring at the pages… it took him a couple seconds to realize it was some kind of _rule_ book.

Boring as fuck, is what it was.

Billy shoved it back into the shelf and moved on. He tested doors, found the bathroom and went in to take a leak… made a mental note to buy Steve a better toilet seat — it didn’t even have a LED ring built in… Steve was practically living in squalor. He didn’t bother to wash his hands, but he grabbed Steve’s tooth brush before he left and licked right over the bristles. Just because he could.

The next door he tried led to the bedroom, and Billy stopped in the doorway… stared at the photos all lined in a row on the dresser. Bits and pieces of Steve’s personal life, an entire _world_ that Billy wasn’t even aware of...

Steve was surrounded by a bunch of guys that looked about five years too young for him... Billy fought back a sneer as he stared at the little curly haired fucker that Steve was resting his chin on the head of for the photo. He moved on to the next one, which was even _worse_... because it was a cute girl planting a kiss on Steve's cheek, and he was clearly flushing... like he was embarrassed.

Billy thought of Steve’s questions last night… how he wanted an answer from Billy, on what they _were_. Well, Billy had questions too… like how the hell was he supposed to answer that, when he knew _nothing_ about Steve? Every second he spent in this apartment just made that more and more clear.

He turned away from the photos, chewing at the corner of his thumb as he wandered over to the bed… there were two cameras sitting on Steve’s bedside table, the brand new one Billy had bought him — and the old one, worn leather strap and scratches all over the metal surface.

Billy grabbed the old one, depositing the half finished jar of peanut butter in its place and flopped onto the bed… he fiddled with the buttons, slipped the leather strap over his head. He popped the lens cap off and squinted one eye, staring through the viewfinder at the ceiling light above him. Clicked the button and took a photo of it, before flipping the camera around and sticking his tongue out… made a little peace sign and snapped another photo.

He took three more of himself posing on Steve’s bed before getting bored… swinging his legs over the edge and wandering back into the living room. He grabbed Steve’s ugly giraffe and held it up in front of the velvet painting, took a photo of it like it was standing in the middle of the water.

His phone was vibrating now, still stuffed in his back pocket from the night before… he let Steve’s camera fall around his neck before grabbing the phone and glared down at the caller ID… _Satan_ was calling. He swiped to cancel the call and stuffed it back in his pocket, only for it to vibrate against his ass with a vengeance.

He sighed and grabbed it again… Three new texts from ‘Satan’, all of them about how he wasn’t at his apartment… and where the hell _was_ he, and if he was dead in some river somewhere… and if he wasn't, she was going to _kill_ him.

Billy texted her back to let her know he was on his way. He’d nearly forgotten he was supposed to do some stupid interview today, for some web-series he didn’t give a shit about… but if he didn’t show up, Heather was going to have his head.

Still… he turned to stare forlorn at Steve. He wasn’t even gonna get a return-the-favor morning blowwy from the guy, a sad fuckin’ story. He dug around in Steve’s apartment until he found a sharpie and a piece of paper, scrawled a hasty note and planted it on the coffee table… paused for a second there, staring at Steve’s sleepy face… he lifted the camera from his chest and took a couple snaps.

Then he knelt down, and drew a curly mustache on Steve's upper lip with the sharpie — before taking a final photo and standing to leave the apartment.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. I know y'all have been waiting. and there's like. zero plot in this. I just. I wrote porn. LOL;
> 
> Plot next time...?

“I want my camera back.” Steve spoke calmly into his phones receiver, giving absolutely no indication of the fact that the camera Billy had taken meant the fucking _world_ to him and… and he just. Needed it back.

“Steve! Thank fuck it’s you.” Billy mumbled back, he sounded drowsy… like he’d just woken up from a nap. Steve refused to find that adorable and shifted his weight — impatiently awaiting a reply to his actual question. “I have a job for you.” Was all Billy went on to say.

“How about fuck you, and where’s my camera?” Steve sniped back, his annoyance slipping through. He heard a choked, indignant reaction on the other end, and he tried to remember if he’d ever responded to Billy like that before. Probably not, he’d been totally awe struck by the guy for the entire time he’d known him.

“Stevieee…” Billy whined, that fake, practiced pouty voice that just… it _did_ things to Steve. “Come on, I need your help.” 

“What? What’s wrong?” Steve hated the way his anger was instantly replaced with concern... So much for his plan to actually hold Billy accountable for his actions. At least, the playing field was probably uneven, so he could just blame that. He was pretty sure Billy had plenty of practice not-so-subtly manipulating people out of their rightfully angry moods with him.

“Just come over, you can have your stupid camera back after.” Billy replied, like now he was the one who was annoyed. He abruptly hung up, and Steve was assaulted by the shrill buzzing of the line going dead. 

“What the fuck.” Steve grumbled, grabbing his keys and hurrying out the door.

Because he’d never had any self respect anyway, so why should this be any different.

* * *

Steve felt strange arriving at Billy’s apartment building again, felt strange at the way the doorman now welcomed him in, instead of trying to get him to leave. Strange by how the lady at the desk simply ignored him… let him wander right over to the elevators without so much as a glance up.

Like they just… expected him now.

He took the elevator and tried to calm the butterflies in his stomach, he had no idea why he was feeling so nervous again. It was like the first time he’d ridden the elevator to this apartment, the first time he’d come face to face with Billy properly.

The first time they’d… well. Fucked up? That was probably the best way to describe whatever was going on between them.

The elevator doors slid open on that familiar, musical chime. And Steve stepped up to Billy’s door, rapped lightly with his knuckles. He could hear Billy’s voice from inside, muffled — could just barely make out the words ‘It’s open.’

Steve grabbed the doorknob and pushed his way in, only to find Billy laying bare-assed on the giant round bed. Silk sheets twisted around his legs, face down in the mattress... a little glint of something metal nestled in between his asscheeks.

“What the hell happened.” Steve asked, face twisting up in confusion. He swept the rest of the apartment, everything seemed fine — besides the overly dramatic pornstar sprawled out in his bed.

“Fell asleep with this in.” Billy simply wiggled his ass to draw more attention to it. He still hadn’t bothered to lift his face up from where it was buried in his mattress, his hair was all sleep messy. Steve tried very hard not to find it cute, tried to stay even just a _little_ annoyed.

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” Steve mumbled, sharpening his eyes and doing a second sweep of the apartment… looking for his camera, this time. “Where’s my stuff?”

“Baby please!” Billy huffed, “You’re the hero — you’re Arthur, you’re the _only_ one who can pull this thing out.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Steve asked, stepping forward with a sigh… kneeling on the bed, almost missing the shiver that ran through Billy as he sensed the shift in weight.

“Camelot?” Billy tried, twisting head so he could take in the confused look on Steve’s face. “Jesus, you’re dumb. I’m too good for you.”

Steve just laughed, it burst out of him like a gasp — a sudden warmth flooding through him. A reminder of how he just couldn't get enough of the way that Billy… kept him on his toes.

“What do I do, just… grab and pull?” Steve asked, carefully pressing the back of his fingers to Billy’s ass… curling them around the edge of the plug, and giving an experimental tug. The sound Billy made went straight to Steve’s dick. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” Billy breathed the words, shifted in the bed and… Steve could see that he was hard now, the length of his dick flushed and laying stiff against the sheets, leaking already. “You work it out slow, ‘cause I’m pretty sure it's been in there for like… an hour.”

Steve almost missed what Billy had been saying, because he’d turned his head and noticed the laptop setup on a nearby table. “Um. Are you live right now?” He asked, straining his vision to try and get a better look. His own confused face was looking back at him from the screen.

“Yep, say hi.” Billy said flippantly, letting his face fall back into his sheets.

“Holy shit- oh _fuck_.” Steve flushed, quickly hid his face behind his hand — fumbling with the butt plug in his grip and ignoring the way Billy moaned, when he accidentally twisted it. “You’re serious!?” He asked, peering between his fingers long enough to catch the chat going wild on the screen.

“Guys, meet my boyfriend.” Billy addressed the computer, ignoring Steve’s question while managing to answer it all at once.

“ _Boyfriend_ ?” Steve would later pretend that his voice hadn’t gone all high and hopeful, that there hadn’t been a smile on his face that was entirely too dorky — and that Billy’s entire fan-base hadn’t _seen_ it.

“Yeah yeah... now pull it out.” Billy said, his voice switching instantly from tired to demanding. Steve had no idea how he was going to get used to what a damn handful this guy was...

“I’m turning this off.” Steve said, stumbling his way towards the edge of the bed and reaching out for the laptop — catching _at least_ two death threats and one ‘ _he’s not even cute_!’ in the chat before closing it out. Great.

“Don’t be a prude, the tips would have been _massive._ ” Billy argued, turning his face again to leer at Steve.

“Let me give you a tip.” Steve shot back, settling behind Billy again — sitting himself over those thick thighs, he could feel the muscles flexing under him. Billy snorted, and Steve ignored it. “Don’t fall asleep while you're streaming.”

“Please, those little perverts love it.” Billy sighed, licking his lips as Steve got his fingers around the base of the plug again. “Go _slow_.” He warned, as if there were any real danger of Steve hurting him.

He wondered if Billy really thought he was capable of that, and felt a little pang in his chest at the prospect.

“Relax,” Steve said, pressing a flat palm to the arch of Billy’s back… pushing it up along his spine, soothing him. “I’d never hurt you... unless you asked me to.” Steve said, leaning down and pressing his lips to the base of Billy’s spine as he spoke.

“ _Fuck_ -” Billy choked on it, swiped a pillow into one of his arms and pulled it to his mouth as he let out a deep moan. “Don’t be a pussy, do it.”

Steve just rolled his eyes, leaned back and… tugged, carefully. “How big is this thing?” He asked, when he felt almost no give with his experimental pull.

“Mmm, it’s... a decent size.” Billy said, his muscles clearly tensing a little as Steve tried to work it out. “But I’m a loose whore. So it should be fine, right?”

“Shut up.” Steve groaned, remembering their argument at the party. He hadn’t even _seen_ Billy since that night, and apparently the wounds were still raw. “I’m sorry, okay?” 

Billy just grumbled into his pillow, and Steve took that for some sort of… tentative acceptance. He pulled a little harder at the plug, working it from side to side and marveling at the way Billy’s hole started to stretch for it, his rim pulled taut over the emerging shiny metal. Steve frowned at how pink it was, wondered if it was _sore_ … he dug a thumb into the muscle of Billy’s ass cheek and rubbed soothingly.

“Doin’ great.” Steve tried, wincing at the grunt of discomfort Billy made. 

  
“Thanks, mom.” Billy replied, his voice rough. Steve’s dick kicked in his jeans again and… yep, he was hard. He took a moment to adjust himself, and Billy made a sound of approval. “Damn, big boy woke up — guess my fans aren't the only perverts ‘round here.”

“Yeah okay, it’s not exactly news that I think you’re hot.” Steve said, rolling his eyes and letting them land fondly on Billy’s face. He blinked a little, before a flush hit his cheeks… resting right under his freckles. Steve caught it right before he could hide it in the pillow trapped under his arm. “Oh come on, you have to know I think you’re hot.” 

“Never said it...” Was all Billy replied with, pushing his elbows into the bed and using the leverage to push his ass back against Steve… the plug slipped back in and Billy groaned.

“Hey! We’re supposed to be making progress here!” Steve announced, pinching Billy’s ass until he relaxed back into the bed. Steve tried very hard to ignore the way Billy was grinding his hips lightly into the mattress, clearly searching out some sort of friction.

He resumed his work, pulling a little harder on the plug now — more of the metal revealing itself as Billy’s hole gave way to the pressure. His thumb slipped from where it was pressed into Billy’s ass, down to his rim… pulled at the tender ring of muscle, easing it open wider.

Billy growled, guttural and deep, teeth biting into the pillow mashed up against his face. His hips jerked, thrusting against the bed and — the plug slipped out further with the force of it, too much too soon and… Steve could feel the way Billy’s muscles jolted, the way his ass clenched tight around the plug.

“Don’t move.” Steve tried for a calming tone, moved his other hand from Billy’s rim back to his ass. A firm, steadying weight, pressing Billy back down into the bed.

“I’ll just lay comatose while you drag that over my fucking prostate, then.” Billy sniped back, the words hissing through his teeth. Steve just breathed out a soft laugh, ignored the way that Billy muttered about him ‘getting off on pain’ and resumed pulling at the plug.

After only a few more seconds of working it out, he’d made it to the widest part and… Steve had to swallow, saliva building up under his tongue as he stared at Billy’s hole stretched so damn wide… the thing had to be at least two and a half inches around. 

And then it was easy, slipping out like it had never given any resistance at all… and Billy was taking a shuddering breath. A glob of creamy-white lube came right out with the plug, dripping down and running from his taint to his balls. Steve watched as Billy’s hole twitched, finally able to relax.

He probably should have got up, probably should have gone and found his camera and… let Billy sleep, or something. But he couldn’t really help himself, his fingers were moving before his brain could catch up and… he prodded gently at the hole, his cock kicking in his jeans again at the hiss of air that Billy sucked in. He was so _soft_ , his rim opening easily for Steve’s fingers, more lube running out as he buried them to the first knuckle.

“This okay?” Steve asked, spreading his fingers experimentally… watching the way Billy’s hole gaped for him. He was slick inside, still coated with the lube he must have used to aid with inserting the toy in the first place… Steve almost couldn’t get over how warm and silky soft it was, wanted so badly to feel that wrapped around his dick.

“ _Fuck —_ yes. Yeah, Steve.” Billy was squirming under him, hips moving like he was trying to hump his bed and… his voice was breathy, thick with need.

“You sure…?” Steve teased, grinning at the way Billy whined when he made to pull his fingers back. A hand grabbed his forearm, grip firm and steadying, and Steve paused to take in the way Billy’s nails dug into his skin.

“C’mon baby, why waste all that prep?” Billy asked, his voice cloyingly sweet. A stark contrast to the bite of his nails, the sting of pain lighting up Steve’s nerves. Steve just worked his fingers back in, let Billy direct him till he was as deep as his hand would allow — curving his fingers and feeling for that spot that had Billy quivering under him, soft little huffs of breath ghosting out over his pillow.

Steve went for his zipper with his other hand, desperate to relieve some of the pressure of his dick straining against his fly. Fumbled with himself until he’d finally gotten it free, stroking steadily over Billy’s sweet spot without fail as he worked.

It was like all his brain-cells were zeroed in on making sure Billy felt good, and anything left over was stupid and useless.

Billy just huffed a laugh, his gaze going soft, hazy as he twisted enough to get a good look at Steve’s cock — resting heavy in his palm. He wasn’t stroking, just holding himself steady, like he didn’t really know what to do with it. Billy arched his back, lifted his ass as best he could with someone sitting on his thighs. The movement jostled Steve a little, as Billy offered himself up with a lazy smile.

“You… aren’t you sore.” Steve tried, his voice shaking a little. He swallowed, Billy always got him so amped up… he couldn’t control himself around the guy.

“I’m asking.” Is all Billy said, and Steve stared blankly at him… Billy just laughed, shook his head. “C’mon dummy, no pain no gain. I wanna come on that fat cock of yours.” It sounded a bit like a line, Billy’s voice taking on a mocking edge as he spoke the last part. But knowing that didn’t stop the way Steve’s dick throbbed in his fist as he heard it.

He shifted, pressed his tip to Billy’s ass... smeared the drip of precum that was leaking out of his slit along the curve of one of those perky cheeks. Billy just hummed the whole time, like he was bored. Steve was fully aware that what he was doing was entirely for his own benefit.

So what if he wanted to rub his dick all over Billy’s ass, mark him up like the guy was _his_ … even if it was just a little cum, something that was easily washed away. “Taking the scenic route?” Billy asked, when he was clearly fed up with waiting.

“Can you blame me?” Steve asked, meeting Billy’s gaze over his shoulder. Those sparkling baby blues were sharp, darkened by lust, a quirk to his brow as he flashed his teeth. It would have looked like a smile to anyone else, but Steve knew better by now.

Steve just licked his lips, moved to press the blunt tip to Billy’s rim instead. He was still so slick with lube, still a little loose from the toy and — Steve sucked in a sharp breath, when he slipped in almost too easily.

Billy buried his face in his pillow again, a low moan dragging out of him, his muscles fluttering around the intrusion... squeezing just enough to make Steve a little lightheaded. Even all stretched out like that, his ass still hugged Steve’s cock just right. 

Steve pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down hard, just to keep from cumming instantly. It took all his willpower to go slow, to rock his hips in long, rolling movements. One hand splayed out over Billy’s ass, the other sliding forwards to tuck around his hip bone and pull him back. 

Everything was pushing him to the edge so quick, besides just the feeling of being tucked deep inside of Billy… the sounds he was making, too. The low, fucked out groans, the hitch of his breath when Steve bottomed out, the breathy whine when Steve pulled back again… like all Billy wanted was for him to stay seated there, pushed into the hilt and filling him.

“Billy…” Steve breathed the name, his fingers kneading the plump muscle of Billy’s ass as he spoke. Billy just grumbled, and Steve snapped his hips at the end of his roll this time, smiling at the shocked moan it pulled from him. “Were you being serious?”  
  
“What?” Billy slurred the words, his fingers twisting into the silk sheets, a wet spot forming on the pillow where his face was pressed.

“You called me your boyfriend.” Steve said, snapping his hips a second time before holding himself there... Pushed his hips against Billy’s ass like maybe he could get even deeper if he just tried hard enough.

Billy just groaned, his voice cracking on it — like he just couldn’t convincingly act annoyed with Steve’s dick buried in his ass. “Is now really the time?” He managed to get out, a little glint in his eye as he craned his neck to look back at Steve.

“Were you being serious? It's not just for...” Steve trailed off, not trusting his voice. He waved a hand towards the powered down computer, figured that would get his point across well enough. Billy just stared at him for a moment…

And then Billy was pushing himself up, knocking Steve off balance and twisting around and — and Steve was pretty sure his dick was gonna break off if he didn’t pull out, so he was quick in getting himself out of and _off_ of Billy… a thick thigh wrapped around his torso as he tried to fully disentangle himself from Billy, and he huffed as he was knocked hard and fast into the mattress.

He’d lost his glasses in the tousle, so he just blinked up, vision a little blurry. Billy’s face was staring into his own now — and Steve breathed heavily as the guys weight pressed on his chest.

“Uh.” Was the only thing he could really think to say, as Billy raised a brow down at him.

“I take self-defense classes.” Billy explained, voice nonchalant as he worked his way back until his ass was nudging against Steve’s still painfully hard cock. “You want me to be serious, right?”

“Fuck yes…” Steve breathed the words, his eyes screwing shut as Billy lifted himself up and sunk back down onto him. “That’s all I want.” He admitted, said it like… like he meant in the _world_ … like there was nothing else that meant anything to him.

Billy just pulled at his shirt, fingers digging into Steve’s chest, pulling and tugging and — Steve finally caught up, followed Billy’s lead and rose up until their chests were pressed together. Billy’s cock was flushed, leaking onto Steve’s shirt and his breath hitched each time the tip rubbed against the fabric.

“You wanna hold hands, wanna kiss me?” Billy taunted, his eyes sharp as he lifted himself up on shaky thighs, lowering himself back down a little too harshly. Steve saw the way he winced, lifted his hands to hips to help guide him.

“Yes.” Steve breathed, swaying forwards like he was tempted now — staring at Billy’s lips, watched them smirk… open to speak again.

“Aw baby what… you love me or something?” Billy asked, playful. Joking. Like he didn’t think that was really possible. Steve’s eyes quickly snapped up from his lips, and focused instead into Billy’s own. He lost his breath, lost all his thoughts… just stared, watched those blue eyes go from filled with humor to… something more like fear. “You don't.” Billy said, swallowed.

“I… I…” Steve just, really didn’t need his mouth to stop working right now but… it was, kind of how his life worked. He just never seemed to have any control. Never seemed to be able to keep his cool. And Billy was still riding him, despite everything — face frozen in disbelief, and the fact that Steve couldn't say _anything_ was saying so much.

And everything felt so good and terrifying all at once that Steve just, lost his shit — came with Billy in his lap, screwing his eyes shut so he didn’t have to see himself reflected back in those two ocean blue pools of judgement.

Billy just road him through it, arms wrapping around him, keeping him up as he shook through his climax. Steve forgot about everything for a moment, felt nothing but the pleasure shooting through him, the jerk of his hips as he emptied into Billy.

And then he was slumping, had no strength left — Billy managed to keep him up for all of two seconds, before the both of them were tumbling over. Steve landed on his back, and Billy’s teeth were on his neck. Tongue licking out, teeth scraping over delicate skin. Steve felt the drag of Billy’s cock on his skin, as he rut desperately into Steve's stomach. 

“You don’t.” Billy repeated, his voice nothing more than a growl, teeth still pressed into Steve’s neck as he spoke.

“Don’t know.” Steve murmured, felt Billy tense against him, felt him bite down _hard_. He made a pained sound, and Billy spilled out all over him. Warm and sticky. If he had any motivation at all, he might have found it kind of disgusting.

“Fuck.” Billy sighed, releasing Steve’s neck. His skin stung, and he idly wondered if Billy had managed to draw blood.

“Still didn't answer my question.” Steve said, venturing on like maybe he didn’t have much respect for his own life.

“Yeah, fine. I was serious.” Billy replied, shifting on top of Steve until he could feel his own cum leaking from Billy’s ass onto his pant leg. Steve just grinned, this big, stupid smile. And Billy groaned, buried his face into Steve's chest as if he couldn’t stand to look at the happiness written all over Steve’s face.

He fished around with his hand until he found Billy’s and laced their fingers together, ignoring the annoyed huff of air from the guy. “So what if I do... wanna hold your hand.” Steve said, closing his eyes. Leave it to Billy to fuck him into exhaustion, he didn’t even think he was capable of moving.

Billy just tucked their legs together, hooked a foot under Steve’s ankle as if he was trying to get even closer, despite every inch of their bodies being pressed together already. “Yeah, okay.” The words were murmured into Steve’s chest, warm breath soaking in through the tight knit of cotton fabric.

Steve thought about kissing him, and maybe _loving_ him… too. Bu he figured he should take what he had, take the win and… run with it. 

So he just squeezed Billy’s hand, and smiled at the way Billy squeezed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I’ve never used the term taint in porn before but listen… i’ve been doing this for a year now, and i'm too fucking tired to try and make this shit sound pretty anymore. PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR TAINT, I'VE BEEN UNLEASHED.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear. Plot things are coming. Sort of. UHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Steve woke to the sound of a click... was pulled out of the comfortable haze of sleep by a shifting of the mattress under him. He blinked his eyes open to the blurry image of someone hovering above him... slowly filtering into focus as they leaned in closer.

“Morning, sleepy head.” Billy’s voice was still a little rough with sleep himself, and Steve just huffed a laugh— swatting weakly up at Billy, only to miss and for his hand to flop back against the bed.

Billy was holding Steve’s camera, had it poised just covering his face… a second click sounding as his forefinger pressed the button down. And that was… what he’d come here to get in the first place, wasn't it?

“You always steal things from other people's houses?” Steve asked, bringing his hand up to rub at his eyes… to scrub away the tired. To avoid answering that question to himself in truth, for just a little longer.

“Only yours.” Billy admitted, a little air of something teasing riding on those words and… another snap of the camera. Steve was too fucking tired for this shit, so he just grumbled and left his hand covering his face… blocking out Billy’s smug face.

“It’s a shame you didn’t want to be on film, you’re so...” Billy started to say, and Steve finally pulled his hand away from his face so he could level a skeptical look at Billy.

“Dorky?” Steve offered, only for Billy to drop the camera from his face and frown.

“No, beautiful.” Billy corrected, the downward tilt to his mouth only deepening. Steve just scoffed, a light flush tinting his skin as he reached over for his glasses… finding them tangled in the sheets, discarded last night without much care for their safety. 

He settled them back on his nose, adjusting them carefully… wondering if his careless treatment of them had finally resulted in a bent frame. Billy just shoved the camera roughly into Steve’s chest, before pushing away from him and getting up, and out of the bed.

“Hey— what…? _Really?”_ Steve asked, already fumbling up and out of bed himself…tugging his jeans on and chasing after Billy. He realized he’d done something to sour the mood, even if he was completely unaware of what triggered it exactly.

“You got what you wanted, you can go now.” Was all Billy said, heading for the fridge and pulling out some old takeout... Steve watched him open a container of noodles and eat it cold with his fingers. A lot of thoughts were running through his head at that moment, but most importantly was the one that kept asking _‘what the hell is happening?’._

“Hold on... last night, _you_ said boyfriend.” Steve pressed on, unwilling to let Billy get away with aggressively pushing him away again. “What the hell changed?”

Billy was still completely naked, licking sauce from his fingers— sticking them in his mouth and sucking noisily, a strange look reflected in his eyes. If Steve didn’t know any better he would call it _sad_ … and it made for the strangest contrast, his flippant body language mixed with the emotion he couldn’t quite hold back.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” Billy said, averting his eyes until he was staring down at the takeout container clutched in his hand.

“Why not?” Steve asked, stepping forward enough to plant his own hands flat on the kitchen island.

“Didn’t ask you.” Billy mumbled turning his head even further away, a flush hitting his skin and spreading up from his chest.

“What… what do you think I’m doing here?” Steve asked, his voice soft like a breath… it still rang loud and clear in the quiet of the apartment.

“For your camera, for work.” Billy listed off, and Steve was crossing the kitchen floor— the tiles cold on his feet, he fought off a shiver as he came to a stop just before Billy. Hesitating, not quite touching.

“You really think, I’d keep spending the night for a job?” 

Billy let out a shaky breath, discarded the carton of noodles on the counter behind him and turned his face up… met Steve’s eyes with a tiny bit of fire— not burning quite as bright as Steve was used to but… it was still there, lingering under the hazy blue.

“I wouldn’t…” Steve continued, closing the distance… pressing the tips of his fingers to the dip of Billy’s waist, trailing them slowly up. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you.”

All of a sudden Billy’s unpleasantly sticky fingers were in Steve’s hair, tangling into the roots until it _hurt_ … pulling. Tugging Steve closer so that their lips were colliding… like the tide coming in, waves crashing into the shore. Desperate. Billy breathing sharp against Steve’s skin, into his mouth— like he needed to make sure Steve didn’t drown in the swell.

Then there was the quick slip of Billy’s tongue... leaving behind the taste of cheap takeout, as he licked past teeth.

And Steve had him pressed up against the fridge, bottles and jars clattering inside as he forced his way closer… like he wanted to climb inside Billy, pull his chest open and curl up between his ribs. He could feel Billy chubbing up against his thigh, already needy… already leaking, a little smear of precum soaking Steve’s jeans.

He wondered why he’d even bothered to put the damn things on.

“How do I know you mean it?” Billy broke away to ask, the words sharp on a breath as Steve dipped his head and licked over Billy’s collar bone… slow, searching. Billy’s skin was a marvel— salty like he’d just slipped out of the ocean, like he was still dripping by the time Steve got his mouth on him… he ignored the fact that it was probably just cum or sweat.

“Well… let’s see.” Steve mumbled the words against Billy’s skin, glancing up while counting silent numbers off on his fingers.

Billy just huffed, unamused— his chest pushing into Steve’s cheek as he breathed in deep for it.

“First, I didn’t freak out over you outing us to your entire fanbase which… by the way, is completely rabid and probably wants me dead now.” Steve held a finger down, aiming a raised brow at Billy as he sunk lower… pausing to flick his tongue over one of Billy’s pert nipples.

“They’ll get used to you…” Billy’s voice was husky, and the sound of it went right to Steve’s dick.

“Second,” Another finger down, Billy licked his lips. “I liked you before you started paying me, and you weren’t even being _nice_ to me yet.” Steve sunk even lower, his chin brushing over each dip of Billy’s abdominal muscles as he went.

“And I’m just supposed to— _ow!”_ Billy hissed as Steve took the time to pinch just a little viciously at the meat of his thigh, as he settled his face right next to Billy’s cock… It was rock hard now, jutting proudly beside Steve’s cheek as he stared up at hooded blue eyes and dropped a final, third finger.

“Third, I wouldn’t suck your cock like this… if it didn’t _mean_ something.” Steve moved his hand to curl around the base of Billy’s shaft, turning his face and pressing his lips there… a soft kiss to the length, his eyelids fluttering closed as Billy sucked in a harsh breath.

“Okay,” Billy’s hand had followed Steve's head all the way down... The tips of his fingers brushing pleasantly through his hair. Steve opened his eyes again and glanced up when Billy tightened his grip and tugged lightly. “No more talking.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, earning himself an even sharper tug— one that left him wincing, a sting that still lingered even when Billy eased back up again. Still, he didn’t kick up a fuss over it… just. Opened his mouth, and stuck his tongue out. A mischievous glint shining behind his glasses as he sat there waiting, on his knees… his hands on Billy’s hips.

Billy’s lids were hooded as he stared back down… as he slowly slid his free hand from where it was grasping the edge of the counter, down to the base of his cock… forefinger and thumb sliding up to the head. Pushing his hips forward and guiding the tip until it was pressed to the center of Steve’s waiting tongue.

Steve tasted the salt of precum and he moaned… loud and teasing, overstated in a way that had Billy growling in the back of his throat. Had him pulling Steve forward by his hair, shutting him up with his cock. Steve just relaxed his jaw, letting the sheer size of Billy work its way in… 

He fought back a gag as Billy hit the back of his throat, lips stretched wide around him. Brown eyes flickering up to catch a darkened blue watching him, watching him try to swallow around it. He breathed sharply through his nose, his tongue working uselessly under the weight of Billy’s cock… 

And Billy just smiled, holding him there. “Thought you were gonna suck me like it meant something.” Billy teased, letting up on Steve for a moment… letting him pull back, and then tugging him back down.

Steve did gag this time, his throat seizing up around Billy, his glasses knocking askew… the groan it drew out of Billy had Steve painfully hard in his jeans, shifting on his knees to try and alleviate some of the pressure on his dick. He dug his nails into Billy’s hips, a sharp warning… and Billy finally let go of his hair, his hands moving to instead resettle Steve’s glasses on his face.

“Okay, you wanna drive?” Billy asked, letting one hand fall to the back of Steve’s head again… just resting now, a light pressure that demanded nothing. Steve pulled back enough to breathe properly again, the head slipping out of his mouth.

“So that no talking rule only applied to me?” Steve asked, and his voice was already scratchy… his throat already sore from having Billy’s dick pressed hard against the back of it.

Billy grinned, showing all his teeth. “Now he’s getting it.”

Steve just opened his mouth again and pushed his tongue out, let it drag down the side of the shaft… not even worrying about the mess he was making, saliva smearing against his chin as he dipped down to suck lightly at Billy’s balls. 

His glasses were knocked off balance for a second time, and then he was pushing back and righting them himself. 

“Such a fucking mess... you know,” Billy said, his voice full of rough edges as he spoke. “I think that’s what I like so much about you.”

“You’re not much better…” Steve muttered, only for Billy to stuff his thumb between Steve’s lips… anchoring his teeth open and effectively halting anything else he might have said.

“Quit stalling, I wanna see you put your mouth where…” Billy paused, a stupid smile on his face. “...my dick is.” 

And Steve realized in that moment, that it was all a big show. That Billy was just a _massive_ dork too... and he’d somehow tricked a million people into thinking he was slick. It had been right in front of his face the whole time and... it made Steve so fucking hot, so damn keyed up for it… it was _crazy_.

Steve surged forward, Billy’s thumb still pulling at the corner of his mouth as he opened wide to take Billy’s cock in. There was a rough groan from above, and the thunk of Billy’s head hitting hard against the fridge as he threw it back. 

“Fuck… why are you so good at this?” Billy breathed out, his thumb smearing saliva all over Steve’s cheek as he swept it away from his lips and over his face.

Steve just hummed around him, and leaned into it… until he could feel the blunt tip hitting against the back of his throat again and, Steve just… angled his head just right for it to slip in further, pushing down his throat.

He thanked four years of swimming for the fact that he could hold his breath, for blessing him with the sound that Billy made as Steve’s throat squeezed around him. It was _wrecked—_ harsh, but vibrant in a way that brought a kind of life, to Billy’s silent, showy apartment.

And Steve just wanted to hear it forever, like a song on repeat… one he’d never get bored of. He wanted Billy to make that sound every day, like he’d never known what _good_ was… until he’d gotten Steve’s lips wrapped around his cock.

He pulled back for breath, filling his lungs before sinking back down again— working Billy deep enough that he could press his nose into the wiry curls nestled at the base… breathing in.

“Can I…” Steve’s eyes flicked up to watch Billy speak, a flush high on his cheeks… staring back down at Steve. There was something in Billy’s expression, feather soft— and if Steve didn’t know any better… _loving_. “Let me fuck your face?” Billy finished, effectively ruining the moment.

Steve had never snorted with a dick shoved down his throat before, but he did now.

He pulled back again, his lips smacking obscenely as the tip popped free from his mouth. “You have a thing for control, did you know that?” Steve asked, humming the words against Billy’s length, soft skin sliding under the pressure of his lips.

“Well shit! You’re a goddamn genius, how long did it take you to figure that one out?” Billy snapped, throwing his head back again and… it sounded kind of painful, with how loudly the fridge rattled at the impact. “C’mon baby, I’ll make it good.”

Steve just smiled… rolled his eyes, at the instant switch— from genuine annoyance to that fake, placating sweet talk that sounded just as much condescending... as it did like what people wanted to hear.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Steve said, smiling even wider at the sound of frustration Billy breathed out.

“What, this?” Billy asked, and then he shouted into the apartment, his voice going high and whiny… taking on a real impressive valley girl effect. “Just let me fuck you, baby please— I need it, I’m gonna _die_ without it!”

“Jesus Christ..!” Steve breathed out, Billy’s ridiculous behavior shocking him into laughter. “Yes, _that!”_ he answered, shoving lightly at Billy’s hips until he stopped.

“You still haven’t answered the question.” Billy pressed, suddenly serious.

“Yeah,” Steve said easily, flicking his tongue out over the the slit, shivering a little at the hissed swear it drew out of Billy. “Use me.”

Billy said nothing, but Steve caught the way he swallowed… the way his cock twitched with interest, at the sound of those words. And then he was pulling Steve forward, pressing his lips to the tip… and Steve let them part, let Billy push past them.

Steve went totally pliant, his jaw dropping open… giving no resistance to the hands tugging him insistently forwards, giving himself completely over to whatever direction Billy wanted to take him in.

It was easy in a way, for Steve. To give up control. He’d always been good at rolling with the punches, at drifting through life— the only real time he’d ever punched back, was when he’d enrolled in classes for photography and for once in his life… altered the course he’d been set on by everyone around him.

But letting Billy guide him felt like second nature, and a little like a role reversal, too. He’d never been under the impression he could ever convince Billy to do something the guy wouldn’t have done otherwise but… the conditions of his work made it feel like he was the one with the lead, even if he never _really_ was.

Billy pulled him down easy first, testing the waters… hitting that familiar resistance at the back of Steve’s throat, before effortlessly guiding himself past… Steve swallowed around the pressure of Billy’s cock, his movements smooth and sure as he slipped deeper.

It was all… a little _too_ careful. Steve flicked painfully at Billy’s hip, fixing him with a pointed stare… and Billy huffed a laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking up. The grip in Steve’s hair tightened, keeping Steve still— and Billy rolled his hips forwards…

Once, _twice_ , and Steve breathed with it. In, each time the head of Billy’s cock slipped back out of his throat enough for him to pull air in. “You want it harder?” Billy asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve just hummed, nodding the best he could… shifting on his knees, he wanted to palm at himself so badly. He was leaking and needy in his jeans and yet, he kept his hands where they were… planted on Billy’s thighs, holding on. 

Because he _knew_ this wasn’t it, that Billy was just playing with him… and that any minute now things were gonna get messy.

And Billy quickly fulfilled that unspoken promise, picking up the pace… dropping the smooth roll of his hips for something rougher, sharp thrusts that Steve had to _work_ to take. His jaw aching as Billy fucked his throat, saliva building under his tongue and slicking over Billy’s shaft… flicking back into his face again when Billy drove in.

It was a lot, and he found himself trying to blink away tears as they blurred his vision. Billy’s cock was thick, and it balanced right along the edge of _too much…_ Still, something about that just made Steve want it more. Like he craved it… being overwhelmed. 

This whole time he’d been stumbling into things headfirst and getting more than he bargained for, and it was like he was getting addicted to it… to Billy pushing and pulling and taking. He dug his nails into Billy’s thighs, his own cock spurting in his jeans at a particularly rough thrust...

And then Billy’s movements abruptly stopped— and he pulled Steve in and _held_ him there.

Billy growled, the sound rumbling up from somewhere deep in his chest and purring out into the air. “You take me so fucking good…” it was obscene, ridiculous really… but the praise still did something for Steve, enough to have him moaning around Billy’s cock.

 _“Seriously…_ I’m trying not to cum here.” Billy complained, his hips jerking involuntarily into the flutter of Steve’s throat.

And Steve just… swallowed, slid his tongue along the underside of Billy’s length. Precum trickling down the back of his throat. Billy huffed, shoving Steve back just far enough that he could breathe again.

“Fuck it.” Billy hissed, pushing forwards to slip back down Steve’s throat one last time before… pulling all the way out. Steve let out a frustrated sound, a little broken whine, and Billy just rolled his eyes. Tightened the grip of his hand in Steve’s hair, holding him back from closing the distance again… from getting Billy's dick back in his mouth where it belonged.

“Tongue out,” Billy demanded, ignoring the annoyed look Steve shot him… “Wanna cum on your face.” he explained.

Steve complied, his mouth dropping open and his tongue sticking out. Staring up at Billy as his free hand slid down to the base of his cock, his grip tightening as he stroked himself. It took maybe three passes of his hand and then he was cumming, choking back a strangled moan as his body tensed.

Emptying onto Steve’s outstretched tongue, a spurt hitting the back of his throat and making him gag— and Billy probably had great aim, but _Steve flinched_ — and he ended up getting it all over his glasses.

Then Billy was sighing, slumping against the fridge and untangling his fingers from where they’d twisted into Steve’s hair. His cock was limp now, resting soft against his thigh… and Steve swallowed what had made it into his mouth.

“Probably should have taken these off…” Steve commented, his voice scratchy as he pulled his glasses off and frowned at the cum coating them. 

“‘Least I didn’t jizz straight into your eyeballs.” 

That was probably some kind of _thing_ , somewhere out there… but Steve couldn’t suppress the shutter at the thought. He _definitely_ would have closed his eyes.

“Besides, I like them…” Billy went on, he was breathing a bit harder, his eyes a bit more lazy as he trained them on Steve… the view was nice, Billy all satisfied like that, laying limp against a surface… all because his legs were threatening to give out under him. “I’ve never fucked four eyes before.”

Steve laughed, unexpected, wincing a little at the way his throat twinged.

“Yeah okay… are you gonna reciprocate now or what?” Steve asked… because he was so damn hard in his jeans that it _hurt,_ and if Billy wasn’t gonna do anything about it… he was gonna have to do it himself.

Billy just chuckled, grabbed Steve’s hair again and pulled him up— and Steve went a little awkwardly, stumbling quickly onto his feet to avoid having Billy actually yank him up by his hair. But then Billy’s hand was smoothly undoing his pants, sliding in and… honestly, all was forgiven. 

Because warm fingers were wrapping confidently around Steve’s cock… and Billy was pulling Steve in for a kiss, licking the cum away from his lips… sucking Steve’s tongue into his mouth and pumping his hand, shoving a knee between Steve’s legs.

Steve came embarrassingly quick, his hips bucking into the touch… practically riding Billy’s thigh, moaning into their kiss as his load splashed out over Billy’s hip. 

Billy’s grip just tightened, and he milked Steve’s softening cock roughly— like he wanted to make sure he got every last drop. Steve squirmed in his grip, protesting weakly as he shoved away. Grinning, Billy lifted his hand to his mouth and licked away the cum he’d gotten on his fingers.

“ _Fuck…”_ Steve breathed, stuffing himself back in his jeans, not even bothering to do them up again as he leaned back against the kitchen island. “What time is it?” 

Billy shrugged, grabbing the discarded carton of noodles and going at it again with his bare hands, almost as if their little interval of frantic fucking had never even happened. “You staying for breakfast…?” he asked, never looking up from the cold noodles he was holding.

“Only if I’m allowed to heat it up.” Steve laughed, smiling softly. He wasn’t sure if they’d even worked anything out… but it _felt_ different. 

And he thought maybe… maybe things would be easier from here on out, with some sort of line of communication being established here. He still had a lot of questions he wanted the answers to, but for now he was okay… he could live, with what they had right now.

Billy was opening the fridge and bending over, and Steve just… blinked. At his ass, on full display, as he found another carton of leftovers— spinning around and thrusting it into Steve’s arms. “Feel free, I’m not your fucking maid.” Billy said, walking off to the living room…

Or… Steve _supposed_ it was a living room, even though the only furniture it had to sit on was the bed Billy filmed on.

“And put some pants on!” Steve yelled over his shoulder, ignoring the way Billy scoffed at that. He found a bowl after some searching in cupboards, and dumped the carton's contents into it… shoving it into the microwave and setting a timer.

The microwave whirred to life, and Steve took the time to search for some silverware as well… grabbing an extra fork for Billy because. He wasn’t sure he could watch the guy eat with his fingers and not get hard again.

And he wasn’t gonna try to unpack the reasons for that. Not one fucking bit. Instead he ran his glasses under the tap, washing away the cum and drying them off on the thigh of his jeans.

The microwave dinged, and he grabbed the bowl out… hissing at how hot it was at his fingers, stuffed the forks in the bowl and juggled the hot surface between his hands as he hurried over to the bed… Billy was sitting there, eating and...

He hadn’t put pants on, but he had managed to get to socks, and he had a pillow held over his lap. So that was like… close enough. Steve just fell into the bed beside him and shoved the second fork in his direction.

Billy rolled his eyes, wiping his hands off on the sheets— smearing sauce all over the fabric— before snatching the fork out of Steve’s grip and grumbling. “We should do more shoots,” Billy brought up casually, a mouth full of food as he spoke. “I haven't been posting a lot since I took you on.”

It felt a little targeted, as if he was implying that this was Steve’s fault… which seemed a bit unfair, because Steve had shown up every time Billy asked him to. But maybe it meant he’d just… been trying to go light on Steve.

Ease him into the job.

Steve flushed at the thought, staring determinedly down at his reheated food. “What’d you have in mind?” Steve asked, trying not to think about how his job was basically filming his boyfriend getting off. He felt his dick perk up just a little, and he mentally scolded himself.

He could be professional… he repeated that mantra over and over again in his head. Not a single interaction he’d had with Billy had ever been professional... he sighed.

Billy paused, like he was considering the question. 

“Photo sets… I’m behind on them.” He said slowly, setting aside his now empty carton of food. “I can do film kind of on my own, like you set up a webcam and go… it’s not great quality like what we did last time but… it works.”

Steve tried not to think about Billy with his hands tied… about how he’d kept him there like that, on the edge as he filmed.

“But I obviously can’t take my own photos…” Billy lay back in the bed, closing his eyes as his head hit the sheets… his hair fanned out all around him, his arms tucked behind his head. “And I normally post three sets a week.”

Steve nearly choked on his noodles. Three sets a week and… they’d done one. In the time Steve had known him. And it wasn’t even _for_ Billy’s website, they were the pictures that Steve had taken home. “No wonder your fans want me dead…” Steve muttered, blinking a little.

Billy just grinned, never opening his eyes. “They’ll get over it.” He said, easily rolling over and pulling at Steve, pulling him down and into the bed with him… Steve held his bowl carefully out of reach as Billy wrapped his arms around his midsection.

“What is happening?” Steve asked slowly, somehow managing to stretch his arms far enough to deposit his half eaten bowl of noodles on the table Billy’s laptop was still perched on.

“We’re cuddling.” Billy murmured, pressing his face straight into Steve’s armpit. His breath tickled, and Steve had to fight against the urge to shove him away.

“C-c’mon, stop that!” Steve managed to get out in between strained laughter, Billy just hummed and shifted his face so that he was pressing into Steve’s left pec instead. “Cuddling… huh?” Steve said under his breath, letting his head fall back against the sheets.

“I thought you wanted to get some work done.” He went on to point out.

Billy grumbled, and nipped savagely at the side of his chest— Steve yelped, and he _knew_ that had been hard enough to leave a mark. “We got all day.” Billy said, licking over the tender skin like he was sorry.

Steve knew better than to believe that he actually was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually haven't written a blowjob in a while and I’m like. WHY? WHY HAVEN'T I? I missed you, my sweet prince.
> 
>  **Thank you for reading!** As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated (as is any feedback) — if you liked this work, you can reblog it from [**right here**](https://shewritesdirty.tumblr.com/post/623290986139893760/slip-slide)~


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